American  Dramatists  Series 

A  MAN'S  WORLD 

A   Play   in  Four  Acts   by 

RACHEL  CROTHERS 


BOSTON:  RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

TORONTO:      THE   COPP   CLARK   CO.,   LIMITED 


Copyright,  1915,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 


THE  GOBHAM  PRESS,  BOSTON,  U.  S.   A. 


CHARACTERS 


HA(A] 


FRANK  WARE. 
LIONE  BRUNE. 
CLARA  OAKES. 
KIDDIE. 

MALCOLM  GASKELL. 
FRITZ  BAHN. 
WELLS  TREVOR. 
EMILE  GRIMEAUX. 


O  *y  o  .," 


A  MAN'S  WORLD 

ACT  I 

Time — The  present — Eight  o'clock  a  winter  even 
ing. 

Scene — Frank  Ware's  living  room  in  an  old  house 
in  lower  New  York.  There  is  a  door  at  C.  back 
leading  into  hall.  One  at  L.  leading  into  sleeping 
room.  A  wide  window  cuts  off  the  upper  R.  corner 
diagonally.  Another  window  is  down  R.  At  L.  a 
large  old  fashioned  fire-place  of  white  marble.  Low 
open  book  shelves  fill  the  wall  spaces.  In  the  up 
per  corner  L.  is  a  large  round  table  on  which 
are  magazines,  a  lamp — a  box  of  cigarettes  and  a 
bowl  of  red  apples.  At  L.  C.  a  very  large  uphol 
stered  davenport  facing  the  fire  at  a  slanting  angle. 
Below  the  fire  a  large  arm-chair. 

At  back  a  baby  grand  piano  stands  R.  of  the 
door  C.- — the  keyboard  facing  the  window — a  sin 
gle  chair  before  it.  Below  piano  a  small  round  ta 
ble  holding  books  and  a  work  basket — a  chair  at  L. 
of  this  table.  Well  out  from  the  window  R.  is  a 
large  table  desk  with  a  chair  on  either  side.  The 
desk  holds  a  student's  lamp — magazines,  newspa 
pers,  brass  desk  furnishings — and  a  great  quantity 
of  Mss.  letters,  etc. 

On  the  book  shelves  are  vases,  several  busts  in 
7 


8  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

bronz  and  white — old  bowls,  a  large  Victory  in 
white,  and  a  great  quantity  of  pictures  on  the  walls 
— water  colors,  oils,  sketches — all  good. 

The  walls  and  ceilings  are  done  in  faded,  old 
frescoes — and  there  is  a  C.  gas  chandelier  of  an  old 
fashioned  design. 

The  furniture  is  all  old,  but  solid  and  the  gen 
eral  air  is  that  of  past  elegance  grown  shabby  and 
invaded  by  up-to-date  comfort  and  cheerfulness. 

At  curtain — Kiddie  Ware,  a  sturdy  boy  of  sev 
en,  is  lying  full  length  on  sofa  looking  into  fire. 
After  a  slight  pause  he  rises — punches  pillow  and 
sulkily  crosses  to  piano.  With  one  finger  he  plays 
"Can  you  come  out  to-night  boys"  three  times,  with 
one  note  always  wrong.  Pie  then  crosses  to  ivin- 
dow  and  looks  eagerly  out  into  the  street.  There 
is  a  soft  rap  at  the  door  C.  Pause — and  the  rap  is 
repeated. 

KIDDIE — (Lifelessly.)     Come. 

FRITZ — (Opening  the  hall  door.)  Wic  gehts. 
Hello. 

KIDDIE — (Without  turning.)     Hello! 

(Fritz  Bahn  is  a  young  German.  He  is  in  even 
ing  clothes  and  carries  a  shabby  top-coat,  a  cap  and 
a  violin  case.) 

FRITZ — Where  is  de  Frankie  mutter? 

KIDDIE — (Still  not  turning.)  She  hasn't  come 
yet. 


ACT  I  (, 

FRITZ — Ach !  She  is  late.  Don't  you  worry.  She 
come  soon.  It  is  not  eight  o'clock  all  ready.  (Goes 
to  child  at  ivindow.) 

KIDDIE — I  want  Frankie. 

FRITZ — Ach  Gott,  so  do  I — but  we  don't  get 
everything  we  want. 

KIDDIE — (Still  not  turning  from  window.)  Why 
don't  she  come? 

FRITZ — I  tink  she  has  had  a  very  busy  day  with 
dot  old  publisher  down  town  to-day.  She  will  be 
so  tired.  Un?  Yah,  I  tink  it.  Don't  look  all  de 
time  on  de  outside.  She  not  come  so.  Look  a  lid- 
die  on  de  inside  an  she  come.  So. 

KIDDIE — Light  all  the  gas.     She  likes  it. 

FRITZ — (Lighting  the  gas.)  So.  Dere  iss  one 
— dere  iss  two — dere  iss  dree.  So.  Better?  Un? 
Who  lighted  the  first  one  for  you  all  ready? 

KIDDIE — Old  Grumper,  when  she  brought  my 
supper.  She  was  awful  cross  to-night. 

FRITZ — No,  iss  dot  so? 

KIDDIE — Light  the  lamp. 

FRITZ — (Lighting  student  lamp  on  desk.)  Oh, 
yah.  De  light  at  de  shrine.  So.  We  are  ready  for 
her.  Un?  Wat  did  you  do  to-day? 

KIDDIE — Nothing. 

FRITZ — Nothing?  Didn't  you  go  to  school? 

KIDDIE — Yes. 

FRITZ — And  didn't  that  nice  girl  wat  takes  care 


io  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

of  you,  take  you  to  de  park  dis  afternoon? 

KIDDIE — Yes. 

FRITZ — And  did  she  go  home  already? 

KIDDIE — Yes. 

FRITZ — And  you  was  alone  dis  evening  waiting 
for  de  Frankie  mudder.  Ain't  you  going  to  smile 
yet?  Wat  will  make  you  smile  now?  Shall  I  tell 
you — oh — such  a  funny  story  aboud  Chris  Kringle, 
wat's  coming  down  your  chimney  next  month  al 
ready?  (Kiddie  shakes  his  head.}  No?  shall  I- — 

KIDDIE — (Solemnly.)     Be  a  monkey. 

FRITZ — (Hopping  on  a  chair  and  imitating  a 
monkey.)  Ach  Gott!  Dot  iss  too  easy. 

KIDDIE — I  like  that. 

FRITZ — Well  I  am  glad  you  like  something. 

KIDDIE — (Going  to  kick  the  end  of  a  couch.) 
I  want  Frankie  to  come. 

FRITZ — Du  Leiber!  Can't  you  forget  a  liddle? 
She  come  soon,  now.  I  tink  she  iss  eating  her  din 
ner  all  ready  down  in  de  restaurant. 

KIDDIE — She's  going  to  take  me  to  dinner  to  eat 
with  her  down  in  that  restaurant,  she  said  so. 

FRITZ — No !  How  fine !  I  will  haf  to  get  invited 
on  that  time.  You  tink  I  can? 

KIDDIE — Sing  a  song. 

FRITZ — All  my  tricks,  un?  (Going  to  piano  he 
begins  a  German  song — extravagantly — after  first 
few  bars — loud  voices  are  heard  in  hall  singing 


ACT  I  ii 

same  tune.  Wells  and  Emile  bang  on  the  door  and 
enter  arm  in  arm  singing. 

WELLS — For  heaven's  sake,  can't  you  hear  any 
thing  but  your  own  voice. 

EMILE — Que  faites — vous?  Oh,  la,  la,  Tenez! 
Ou  est  las  divinite? — Ou  est  la  Divinite? 

(Wells  Trevors  is  a  happy  go  lucky  young  Amer 
ican,  good  looking  and  goodnatured.  He  wears  a 
shabby  lounging  coat.  Emile  Grimeaux  is  a  small 
Frenchman  of  the  unmistakable  artist  type.  He 
wears  a  blue  working  blouse.) 

WELLS— Where's  Frankie?  Kiddie? 

KIDDIE — She  hasn't  come  home  yet. 

FRITZ — (Rising  from  piano  and  going  to  Wells 
thumping  him  in  the  ribs.)  It's  too  early  all  ready. 
Don't  you  know  anything? 

EMILE — Um — he  knows  nossing. 

WELLS — I  know  a  good  sport  when  I  see  one. 
(Going  to  Kiddie.)  Kiddie,  old  man,  doesn't  care 
when  Frank  gets  home,  do  you?  He  can  take  care 
of  himself,  can't  you?  (Wells  doubles  his  fist  and 
makes  a  pass  at  Kiddie,  to  which  Kiddie  quickly  re 
sponds.  They  move  to  C.  going  on  with  mock 
fight.) 

FRITZ — Gif  it  to  him,  Kiddie.  Goot!  See!  Ach 
du  leiber  Himmel!  Keep  at  him!  You  have  him 
going!  (Wells  doubles  back  to  L.  towards  the 
couch.  Kiddie  is  excited  with  his  victory.) 


u  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

EMILE — Viola!  See  ze  liddle  champion!  En 
garde!  Bien!  Voila! 

FRITZ — Reach  for  de  chin. 

EMILE — Non,  no, — Kick  him  wiz  se  feet! 
(Wells  falls  full  length  backwards  on  couch  among 
pillows.  Kiddie  wildly  excited.) 

FRITZ — (Snatching  a  newspaper  from  the  desk 
and  giving  it  to  Kiddie.)  Here — here — fan  him! 
You  must  be  goot  to  a  man  when  he  iss  down. 

WELLS — (Gasping.)     Where  am  I? 

FRITZ — You  are  wid  friends.  (Kiddie  takes  pa 
per  and  holding  it  at  arms  length,  in  both  hands, 
fanning  Wells  laboriously.)  Haf  you  got  your 
wind  all  ready? 

EMILE — (Laughing.)  I  wonder  where  iss  a 
cigarette.  Oh — le  voila! 

WELLS — Let  me  have  that  paper,  Kiddie.  Did 
you  see  a  criticism  of  Frank's  book  this  morning? 

EMILE — Non — I  had  not  ze  time.  I  haf  painted 
all  day  like  mad.  I  have  had  ze  most  wonderful — 

WELLS — Here  you  are.  (Finding  the  article.) 
"The  Beaten  Path"  is  the  strongest  thing  that 
Frank  Ware  has  ever  done.  Her  first  work  at 
tracted  wide  attention  when  we  tho't  Frank  Ware 
was  a  man,  but  now  that  we  know  she  is  a  woman 
we  are  more  than  ever  impressed  by  the  strength 
and  scope  of  her  work.  She  has  laid  her  scenes 
this  time  on  the  East  side  in  the  wretched  poverty 


ACT  I  13 

of  the  tenement  houses,  and  the  marvel  is  that  any 
woman  could  see  and  know  so  much  and  depict 
crime  and  degradation  so  boldly.  Her  great  cry 
is  for  women — to  make  them  better  by  making 
them  freer.  It  is  decidedly  the  most  striking  book 
of  the  year.  (Kiddie  with  a  heavy  sigh  goes  back  to 
the  window.)  Bully  good  criticism. 

FRITZ — It's  a  bully  good  book. 

WELLS — You  bet  it  is.  Where  does  she  get  her 
stuff,  anyway?  After  all,  that's  the  point!  How 
does  she  get  it? 

EMILE — Sere  iss  only  one  way.  (Rising  and 
stretching  himself  complacently,  standing  with  back 
to  fire.)  A  woman  only  gets  what  a  man  gives 
her.  (Fritz  draws  Kiddie  away  from  the  window 
and  sitting  R.  of  desk,  takes  him  on  his  knee.) 

WELLS — (Still  lying  on  couch.)  Lione  says  the 
man  is  Gaskell. 

EMILE — Zut!  Gaskell  has  not  ze  romanse — ze 
mystery — ze  charm  for  a  secret  love. 

FRITZ — (Attracting  Kiddie 's  attention  from  the 
others  by  showing  him  a  trick  with  his  fingers.) 
Can  you  do  dot?  It  iss  not  so  easy.  Un? 

WELLS — I'm  hanged  if  I  can  tell  whether  it  is 
Gaskel  or  not — but  if  it  is — why  the  devil  won't 
she  marry  him?  I  tell  you  Malcolm  Gaskell's  go 
ing  to  be  a  big  man  some  day.  He's  got  the  grip 
on  this  newspaper  all  right,  all  right,  and  he's  not 


14  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

going  to  let  go  till  he's  got  a  darned  good  thing. 

EMILE — Zat  would  be  nossing  to  her.  She  wants 
ze  love  of  ze  poet — ze  artist.  It  is  not — 

FRITZ — Wat  are  you  talking  about?  It  is  not 
dis — it  is  not  dat.  It  is  not  nobody. 

EMILE — Oh,  la,  la!  She  is  a  very  brilliant  wo 
man,  but  she  cannot  do  what  is  impossible.  She 
cannot  write  like  a  man  unless  a  man  help  her — 
and  no  man  could  make  her  write  like  zat  unless 
she  love  him. 

FRITZ — (Frowning  fiercely  and  shaking  his  head 
at  Emile,  takes  up  picture  to  show  Kiddie.)  Mine 
gracious!  Look  at  dis  beautiful  ladies. 

KIDDIE — I  don't  like  'em. 

FRITZ — Ach  Gott!  Der  is  Fraulein  Keppel  who 
used  to  sing  wid  dot  beautiful  voice  when  I  played 
in  the  orchestra  in  Berlin. 

KIDDIE — There  ain't  anything  funny  in  that  old 
paper.  Why  don't  they  have  Buster  Brown  every 
day? 

FRITZ — Ach  no.  They  have  to  keep  Buster  so 
we  can  tell  ven  it  iss  Sunday. 

WELLS — (In  a  lower  voice  to  Emile.)  You 
can't  see  beyond  the  love  idea.  Frank  isn't  a 
Frenchwoman.  What  if  there  is  a  man  helping 
her — it  might  be  only  a  business  deal. 

EMILE — Oh— mon  enfant! 

FRITZ — (Rising  quickly  as  he  puts  Kiddie  to  the 


ACT  I  15 

floor.)  You  are  two  big  fools.  (To  Kiddie.)  Kid 
die,  why  don't  you  go  down  to  the  lower  hall  and 
wait  dere  for  Frankie  mutter? 

KIDDIE — (Going  up  to  hall  door.)  I'll  stay  by 
the  door  and  when  she  comes  in,  I'll  jump  out  at 
her.  (He  goes  out.) 

FRITZ — (Going  out  into  hall  after  him.)  Oh 
my!  Dot  will  be  so  funny !  She  will  jump  so  high. 

EMILE — (At  fireplace.)  Au  revoir,  mon  mig- 
non. 

WELLS — So  long,  old  man. 

KIDDIE — (Calling  from  the  hall.)  I'm  going  to 
slide  down  the  banisters. 

FRITZ — (In  the  door  way.)  Don't  break  your 
neck,  all  ready.  I  vill  watch!  Ach  Got!  Be  care 
ful  !  Der  you  go.  (He  closes  door  and  goes  down 
C.)  So  you — her  friends — are  talking  too. 

EMILE — Oh — la — la ! 

FRITZ — You  have  listened  to  de  gossip,  de — 

WELLS — (Throwing  down  paper  and  sitting 
up.)  Oh,  come  off  Fritz.  Don't  get  excited.  I 
say  I  don't  know  whether  it's  a  love  affair  or  not. 
//  it  is  Gaskell— 

FRITZ — If — if — if!  Why  do  you  always  use  dot 
mean  little  'if?  Are  you  cowards?  Are  you 
afraid  to  say  it  is  a  lie? 

EMILE — She  does  not  deny  it. 

FRITZ — She  would  not  stoop  to  deny  it. 


16  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

WELLS — I  think  Frank  has  had  some  grand 
smash  up  of  a  love  affair  sometime.  I  don't  know 
whether  Kiddie's  her  child  or  not — don't  care — none 
of  my  business — but  after  she's  had  the  courage  to 
adopt  the  boy,  and  refuses  to  explain  who  he  is — 
after  she's  made  people  respect  her  and  accept  the 
situation — I  can't  see  for  the  life  of  me,  why  she 
lets  another  thing  come  up  for  people  to  talk  about. 

FRITZ — There  is  no  other  thing !  That  iss  a  lie. 

EMILE — How  do  you  know? 

FRITZ — You  know — you  know  it  iss  a  lie!  Why 
don't  you  kill  it? 

EMILE — How  can  you  kill  a  lie  about  a  woman  ? 

FRITZ— Wid  de  truth. 

EMILE — Mais!   What  is  ze  truth? 

FRITZ — De  truth  iss — that  she  is  a  good  woman 
and  you  are  too  small  too  liddle — too — too — too 
bad  in  your  mind  to  know  wat  dot  means. 

EMILE — (Following  him  to  C.)  Prenez-garde ! 
I  am  a  Frenchman! 

FRITZ — Yah,  dot  iss  yust  it.  You  don't  know  a 
good  woman  when  you  see  one. 

EMILE — "Good!"  I  said  nossing  about  good  or 
bad.  It  iss  you — you  who  make  her  bad.  You  say 
she  must  live  like  zis  or  like  zat — or  like  one  little 
way  you  think — or  she  iss  bad!  Bah!  What  is  bad? 
She  iss  good  because  she  has  a  great  heart — a  great 
nature.  She  is  brave  enough  to  keep  ziz  child  wiz. 


ACT  I  17 

her — and  snap  ze  fingers  at  ze  world.  She  is  kind 
as  an  angel — she  is  free — she  is  not  afraid — but  she 
must  love  because  she  is  too  great  to  live  without 
love.  Does  zat  make  her  bad?  Allons  done!  Be 
cause  she  does  not  tell  who  ze  lover  is  does  zat  make 
her  bad  ?  Bah !  It  is  you  who  are  too  small — too 
little  too  bete — too  German  to  understand. 

FRITZ — Oh,  yah!  yah,  yah.  You  can  talk  wid 
your  French  talk.  You  mix  up  de  good  and  de  bad 
like  you  mix  your  black  and  white  paint  till  you  get 
a  dirty  something  and  say  it  iss  beautiful.  You  say 
— "Oh,  yah,  she  iss  a  good  woman,"  and  you  damn 
her  wid  dat  nasty  liddle  shrug  of  dat  nasty  liddle 
shoulder. 

EMILE — Wat  do  you — 

FRITZ — You  cannot  do  dat  wid  me.  You  are  her 
friend  or  you  are  not  her  friend.  You  know  dat 
she  is  what  I  know  she  is,  and  if  you  don't  stop 
winking  and  wiggling  and  smiling — I  vill — 

EMILE — You  will?  What  will  you?  It  is  not 
to  you  to  tell  me  what  I  sink  of  her.  You  are  only 
jealous.  You  say  zer  is  no  ozzer  man  because  you 
are  crazy  wiz  ze  jealous.  Hein!  If  you  was  ze 
man  you  would  not  care  what  I  zink —  (Fritz 
rushes  at  Emile.) 

WELLS — (Springing  up  from  couch  and  going  be 
tween  them.)  Drop  it  you,  fools! 

KIDDIE — (Bursting  into  the  room  and  getting  be- 


1 8  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

hind  the  hall  door.)      Don't  tell  'er  where  I  am. 

FRAN^C — (Coming  in  with  a  rush.)  Oh,  I'm  so 
frightened!  Something  jumped  out  at  me  and  ran 
up  the  stairs.  Where's  my  Kiddie  man  to  save  me  ? 
Where  is  he  I  say. 

EMILE — II  n'est  pas  ici.     I  do  not  see  him. 

WELLS — Didn't  you  see  him?  He  went  down 
to  meet  you.  (Kiddie  and  Frank  both  cautiously 
peer  near  edge  of  the  door  which  is  between  them 
until  they  see  each  other  and  Kiddie  springs  into 
Frank's  arms.) 

FRANK — (Catching  Kiddie  to  her  and  covering 
his  face  with  kisses.)  My  Kiddie  man!  Was  I 
long?  I  tried  so  hard  not  to  be  late  to-night.  I 
must  have  a  bigger  hug  than  that. 

KIDDIE — (With  a  bear  like  hug.)  You  was  aw 
ful  scared — wasn't  you? 

FRANK — 'Deed  I  was — all  to  pieces! 

KIDDIE — She  jumped  awful  high,  Fritz! 

FRITZ — Yah,  I  told  you. 

FRANK — Well,  how  are  you?  You're  lucky  dogs 
to  be  so  poor  that  you  don't  have  to  work.  (She 
smiles  at  them  all  with  the  frank  abandon  of  being 
one  of  them — strong  free,  unafraid,  with  the  glow 
ing  charm  of  a  woman  at  the  height  of  her  develop 
ment.  Her  clothes  are  simple  and  not  new — but 
have  a  certain  artistic  individuality  and  style.) 

EMILE — Zen  why  do  you  kill  yourself  to  get  rich  ? 


ACT  I  19 

FRANK — I  have  to  get  rich  for  my  Kiddie,  don't 
I?  See  what  you  think  of  that,  boy.  (Giving  him 
a  small  package.) 

FRITZ — (Helping  Frank  off  with  her  coat.) 
Have  you  had  some  dinner? 

FRANK — Yes,  I  had  a  bite  down  town,  but  I'm 
hungry. 

FRITZ — (Putting  her  cloak  on  piano.)  I  will 
get  you  some-ding. 

WELLS — No,  I'll  chase  out  and  get  it. 

EMILE — I  will  make  you  a  salad,  toute  de  suite. 

FRANK — (Sitting  on  the  couch.)  No — no — no. 
Stay  where  you  are — all  of  you.  I  know  what  I 
want.  It's  an  apple.  Give  it  to  me,  Wells.  Oh — 
This  is  good!  Be  it  ever  so  high  up,  there's  no 
place  like  home.  Take  off  my  gloves,  will  you, 
Emile?  Somebody  might  poke  up  the  fire  a  bit. 
(To  Kiddie  who  is  struggling  with  the  toy.)  Can't 
you  make  it  go,  old  man?  Wind  it  up  for  him, 
Fritz.  (Emile  having  taken  the  gloves  off  goes 
back  of  couch  and  takes  off  her  hat.  Fritz  takes 
the  toy  and  sits  on  the  floor  tailor  fashion. 
Kiddie  sits  in  front  of  him  with  his  back  to  audience. 
There  is  a  long  pause.  Wells,  peeling  and  slicing 
the  apple  sits  on  the  L.  arm  of  couch,  holding  the 
slices  out  to  Frank  on  the  end  of  the  knife.)  What's 
the  matter  with  you  all?  Anybody  had  bad  luck? 
You're  a  cheerful  set.  Why  don't  you  talk  ?  Amuse 


20  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

me.  What  are  you  good  for?  You  look  as  cross 
as  sticks,  Fritz.  Have  you  had  a  fight? 

EMILE — Qui.     We  have  had  a  grand  fight. 

FRANK — What  about? 

EMILE — About  you. 

FRANK — That's  good.    Who  was  on  my  side  ? 

EMILE — We  were  all  on  your  side,  only  in  ze 
different  way. 

FRANK — What's  your  way?  (Kiddie  runs  to 
Frank,  sitting  on  her  lap.) 

EMILE — I  say  I  have  ze  advantage  of  zem  all — 
because  I  can  put  you  in  my  pictures  as  I  see  you — 
as  I  understand  you.  You  are  in  zem  all — many 
women — in  many  moods.  Mon  Dieu!  I  have  had 
a  wonderful  day!  I  have  painted  every  minute 
till  ze  light  is  gone. 

FRANK — You  look  it. 

EMILE — I  haf  got  it  to-day — what  I  want — and 
it  iss  you  zat  I  see  in  ziz  picture. 

FRITZ — (Working  with  the  toy  on  the  floor.) 
Nobody  else  vill  see  it. 

EMILE — Ah,  not  ze  nose — ze  ears — ze  chin,  may 
be — I  am  not,  painting  the  photograph.  I  am 
painting  the  soul — ze  soul  of  a  woman. 

FRITZ — How  can  you  paint  what  you  know  nud- 
ding  about? 

FRANK — (Laughing.)     How's  the  play,  Wells? 

WELLS — I   rewrote   the   great  third   act  to-day. 


ACT  I  21 

May  I  read  it  to  you  in  the  morning? 

FRANK — Yes.  (As  Kiddie  hugs  her.)  Aw — 
Kiddie — between  you  and  the  apple  I  am  choking 
to  death.  What  have  you  been  doing  to-day,  Fritz  ?  -\ 

FRITZ — (Reaching  for  the  toy  which  has  run 
away  from  him.)  I  have  been  gifing  a  five  dollar 
violin  lesson  for  a  dollar  fifty. 

WELLS— Cash? 

FRITZ— Yah. 

WELLS — Then  you  haven't  got  any  kick  coming, 

FRANK — Go  and  see  that  thing,  Kiddie.  Don't 
you  like  it?  (Kiddie  goes  to  sit  on  the  floor  again.) 

FRITZ — (Winding  the  toy.)  One  of  his  legs  is 
a  liddle  longer  than  he  really  ought  to  be. 

KIDDIE — Make  him  go. 

FRANK — What  are  you  doing  in  your  glad  rags, 
Fritz?  You  ought  not  to  be  sitting  on  the  floor  so 
dressed  up. 

FRITZ — I  am  going  to  play  Lione's  accompani 
ments.  She  says  it  is  a  very  fashionable  function. 

FRANK — Oh,  yes,  I  remember.  Get  up  and 
brush  yourself  off.  What  is  she  going  to  sing? 

FRITZ — (Rising  and  going  to  piano.)  She  is  go 
ing  to  sing  dis  for  an  encore. 

WELLS — (Putting  apple  and  tray  back  on  table 
up  L.)  Lione's  encores  are  her  long  suite. 

FRANK — That's  because  she  always  sings  Fritzie's 
songs  for  them.  (Fritz  plays  a  tender  little  ger- 


22  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

man  song,  singing  a  strain  here  and  there.  Wells 
whistles.  Frank  closes  her  eyes  listening.)  Um — 
sweet.  I  could  tell  that  was  Fritzie's  in  the  moon. 
Come  and  listen,  Kiddie.  (Kiddie  runs  to  kneel 
on  couch  by  Frank  with  his  head  on  her  shoulder. 
Lione's  voice  is  heard  singing  the  song  from  the 
hall.  She  throws  open  the  hall  door  on  a  high  note. 
Wells  and  Emile  applaud  her  with  good  natured 
guying. 

Lione  Brune  is  a  tall  woman  with  rather  strik 
ing  beauty  of  a  bold  type,  emphasized  by  her  black 
gown  which  is  very  low  and  long.) 

WELLS — Bravo!  Bravo!  Make  your  entrance 
again,  my  dear, — and  I'll  throw  the  lights  on  the 
door. 

LIONE — I'm  on  now.  You're  too  late  for  the 
cue. 

FRANK — No  one  will  dispute  your  Italian  blood 
to-night,  Lione. 

LIONE — (Sweeping  down  to  fire.)  Why  should 
they  dispute  it? 

WELLS — (Imitating  her.) — Why  should  they — 
but  they  do. 

EMILE — A  man  say  to  me  ze  ozzer  day — "Wat 
iss  Miss  Brune?"  and  I  say — "Can  you  not  see  by 
ze  look — ze  voice — ze  temperament?"  And  he  says 
to  me — "You  mean  Irish?" 

LIONE — Beast!     (Sitting  in  arm  chair  down  L.) 


ACT  I  23 

WELLS — Italian  extraction.  Lione  from  Lena — 
Brune — from  Brown. 

LIONE — That's  brilliant  dialogue,  Wells.  Put 
it  in  a  play.  Give  me  a  cigarette,  Emile.  (Emile 
lights  a  cigarette  for  her.  Fritz  plays  again — they  all 
whistle  or  sing  for  a  moment  with  comfortable  aban 
don. 

Clara  Oakes  opens  the  door.  She  is  a  medium- 
sized  woman  of  about  37 — with  a  generally  drab  and 
nondescript  appearance,  looking  thrown  into  her 
clothes  which  are  somewhat  passe.  One  refractory 
lock  of  hair  falls  over  her  face  and  her  hat  is 
on  one  side  of  her  head — both  of  these  she  con 
stantly  tries  to  adjust.  She  speaks  in  a  nervous 
gasping  way  and  is  just  now  very  much  out  of 
breath.) 

CLARA — Hello,  everybody. 

ALL— "Hello  Clara." 

LIONE — (Condescendingly.)  Ah,  cara  mia, 
where  have  you  been  all  day? 

CLARA — Did  you  miss  me,  dearest? 

LIONE — Of  course  I  did.  I  wanted  you  to  hook 
my  gown. 

CLARA — I  am  so  sorry. 

FRANK — Sit  down,  child. 

CLARA — (Sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  couch  by 
Frank. )  I  went  into  Cousin  Mabel's  and  she  asked 


24  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

me  to  stay  to  dinner.     So  I  did  of  course. 

WELLS — Of  course.  Don't  miss  any  of  Cousin 
Mabel's  dinners,  Clara. 

CLARA — (Still  out  of  breath.)  She  sent  me 
home  in  the  motor. 

FRANK — Too  bad  she  didn't  send  you  all  the  way 
up  stairs  in  it. 

CLARA — Yes.  I  ran  up  three  flights  I  was  in 
such  a  hurry  to  see  you  I  have  an  idea. 

LIONE — Well,  sit  back  and  either  take  your  hat 
off  or  pin  it  on  straight. 

CLARA — Oh,  is  it  crooked? 

EMILE — It  make  ze  whole  room  crooked — out  of 
drawing.  I  cannot  see  anything  else. 

CLARA — (Struggling  with  her  hat  and  hair.) 
Well — I'm  going  to  give  an  exhibition. 

FRITZ — (From  the  piano  where  he  is  still  playing 
very  softly.)  Ach  gott! 

WELLS— What? 

LIONE — Now,  Clara,  don't  be  a  fool. 

EMILE — And  what  are  you  going  to  exhibit? 

FRANK— Be  quiet.  (To  Clara.)  Go  on.  Why 
shouldn't  you  give  an  exhibition?  I  wish  to  good 
ness  you'd  finish  that  miniature  of  Kiddie  you  be 
gan  about  six  months  ago. 

CLARA — I  will.  I'll  get  to  work  at  it  right 
away.  I'll  make  it  the  important  picture  of  the  ex 
hibition. 


ACT  I  25 

FRANK — Kiddie  can  be  there  and  walk  up  and 
down  in  front  of  it  to  show  how  good  it  is. 

WELLS — I  wouldn't  run  any  unnecessary  risks, 
Clara. 

CLARA — You  mean  thing! 

FRANK — Shut  up,  Wells.  (Throwing  a  pillow 
at  him.) 

CLARA — You  just  wait — you  just  wait,  you  peo 
ple.  You  don't  believe  in  me.  You  don't  think  I 
am  in  earnest.  I'll  show  you.  I  am  going  to  get 
to  work  right  away* 

EMILE — Oh,  you  have  some  orders,  zen? 

CLARA — No — I  didn't  mean  that.  But  Cousin 
Mabel  says  she'll  let  me  do  her  miniature. 

LIONE — Let  you?   For  nothing? 

CLARA — Well,  yes.     I  don't  mind  that. 

WELLS — Good  Lord!  (An  uproar  from  the  oth- 
ers.) 

CLARA — Now,  listen! 

FRANK — Listen!  Listen!   Go  on,  Clara. 

CLARA — Then  if  she  likes  it,  she'll  interest  other 
people.  That's  what  I've  always  wanted  her  to 
do,  you  know.  Because  if  Cousin  Mabel  really 
wanted  to  she  could  do  anything  with  her  social  po 
sition. 

LIONE — Your  Cousin  Mabel  and  her  social  posi 
tion  make  me  sick.  Why  doesn't  she  give  you  an 
income  ? 


26  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

CLARA — Oh,  I  couldn't  accept  that. 

WELLS — You  couldn't — if  you  didn't  get  it. 

CLARA — You  don't  understand  how  conservative 
my  people  are. 

LIONE — How  stingy — you  mean. 

EMILE — Why  don't  you  tell  them  all  to  go  to  ze 
devil? 

CLARA — Oh,  I  couldn't  do  that.  I  can't  afford 
to  cut  loose  entirely  from  my  family — tho'  of  course 
they  object  horribly  to  my  working. 

LIONE — They're  a  pack  of  snobs.  Why  don't 
they  boost  you  along  in  society  then,  if  they  object 
to  this? 

CLARA — Well,  I  really  think  if  I  succeeded,  they 
wouldn't  mind  so  much. 

LIONE — No — you  bet.  They'd  all  be  running 
after  you  then. 

EMILE — Zat  is  ze  trouble.  You  are  still  hang 
ing  to  ze  petticoats  of  your  fashionable  world — and 
what  do  it  do  for  you?  Look  at  me — I  am  alone 
in  a  strange  country.  I  have  no  influence — no  rich 
friends.  I  am  working  for  ze  art — not  for  ze 
money. 

FRITZ — (Rising,  getting  pipe  from  overcoat  and 
going  to  window.)  Dat  is  a  good  thing  den. 

EMILE — Bah!  What  is  money? 

WELLS — Don't  ask  me. 

EMILE — Why  don't  you  live  for  your  art — and 


ACT  I  27 

starve  for  it  if  it  must  be. 

FRITZ — Yah!  And  when  you  are  hungry — eat 
one  of  your  beautiful  miniatures. 

EMILE — Art  has  nossing  to  do  wiz  money. 

WELLS — No,  but  money  has  something  to  do 
with  art. 

EMILE — In  America,  yes.  Oui — zat  is  ze  truth 
— ze  sad  truth.  You  have  no  art  in  America — and 
what  you  have  is  French.  (A  laugh  of  tolerance 
from  the  others.) 

LIONE — I  suppose  you'll  be  swelling  it,  Frank, 
now  that  you  don't  have  to  make  any  sacrifices  for 
the  sake  of  your  work. 

FRANK — I  never  have  made  any  for  it. 

LIONE — I'd  be  ashamed  to  confess  it. 

FRANK — Neither  have  you — none  of  you  have. 
We're  all  working  for  money.  We'd  be  fools  if 
we  didn't. 

.   LIONE — Well — really — I   tho't  you  had   a  few 
ideals. 

FRANK — Never  mind  ideals.  I've  got  a  little  tal 
ent  and  I'm  trying  to  sell  it.  So  are  we  all — be 
cause  we  haven't  got  anything  else  to  sell.  It's 
only  genius  that  forgets  money.  Only  the  glory  of 
creating  that  compensates  for  being  hungry.  No — 
no — talent  wants  three  meals  a  day — genius  can 
live  in  spite  of  none. 

WELLS— Well,  by  God— I   guess  you're  right. 


28  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

Frank.  I  want  to  sell — and  I'm  going  to  hang  on. 
I  think  I've  got  a  chance — not  because  my  plays 
are  any  good — but  because  other  people's  are  so 
damned  bad.  (All  laugh  and  there  is  a  general 
movement.) 

FRANK — (Rising.)  Come,  Kiddie,  say  good 
night. 

KIDDIE — Aw — 

FRANK — Not  another  minute.     Past  time  now. 

FRITZ — Gute  nacht — mine  kint. 

KIDDIE — Gute  nacht. 

EMILE — Bonne  nuit,  mon  petit.     Dormez  bien. 

KIDDIE — Good  night. 

EMILE — Comment  ?  Que  dis  tu  ?  Ah !  Mon  Dieu ! 
I  will  never  make  you  a  Frenchman  if  you  do 
not  speak  ze  language. 

FRITZ — Don't  speak  den,  Kiddie. 

WELLS — Good  night  old  man — I'll  have  to  prac 
tice  an  uppercut  for  you. 

KIDDIE — I'll  do  you  up  again. 

CLARA — (Catching  Kiddie  as  he  passes  her.) 
Good  night,  angel  sweetheart.  t(Kissing  him  on  both 
cheeks.) 

KIDDIE — (Rubbing  his  cheek).    Night. 

FRANK — Excuse  me  two  minutes,  good  people. 
(She  follows  Kiddie  out  closing  the  door.) 

CLARA — (After  pause.)  Dear  Frank  is  so  de 
voted  to  Kiddie. 


ACT  1  *$ 

LIONE — Yes,  isn't  she — as  devoted — as  a  moth 
er. 

CLARA — Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that.  That  is — I — I 
— you — know  what  I  mean.  (She  looks  from  one 
to  the  other  much  embarrassed.  A  conscious  pause.) 
Oh,  dear,  I'm  always  saying  the  wrong  thing.  You 
know  I  just  love  Frank.  I  wouldn't  criticize  her 
for  the  world.  Of  course  I  do  think  you  have  to 
be  very  broad  minded  when  you  come  into  this  at 
mosphere.  Cousin  Mabel  says  I  am  getting  entirely 
too  liberal — but  then  she — 

WELLS — You're  very  liberal  with  your  hair  pins 
— they're  all  over  the  place.  (Giving  her  two  from 
the  floor.) 

CLARA — Oh,  thank  you,  Wells.  She  also  said  my 
hair  was  too  loose  and  that  I  was  getting  just  like 
a  bohemian.  (Laughing  foolishly.)  She  doesn't 
like  it — but  then  she  doesn't  understand — you  know. 

WELLS — That's  it.  She  doesn't  understand. 
Cousin  Mabel  doesn't  understand.  You  tell  her  it 
takes  more  than  loose  hair  to  make  a  bohemian — 
and  you're  getting  to  be  an  out  and  outer. 

CLARA — (Rising,  laughing  again — nervous — but 
immensely  flattered.)  Oh,  no,  I'm  not. 

EMILE — Oui — oui — I  can  see  it.  It  is  there — 
that  something — mysterious  and  illusive — the  true 
mark  of  ze  bohemian. 

CLARA — Oh,  don't  say  that.    I — I  think  I'm  just 


30  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

as  I  always  was. 

WELLS — No,  Clara,  you're  not.  The  change  is 
so  subtle  that  you  don't  know  it  yourself.  But  we 
feel  it,  you  know. 

LIONE — You  want  to  be  careful,  Clara. 

CLARA — Why  what  do  you  mean?    Oh,  dear! 

FRITZ — You  better  make  your  hair  tight  again 
already. 

CLARA — Well — I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  you 
mean.  I  don't  believe  it  any  way.  I'm  going. 
(Running  out  the  hall  door.) 

LIONE — (Calling  to  her.)  I'm  coming.  Clara, 
get  my  coat  out,  will  you? 

WELLS — Poor  Clara,  she'd  like  to  tip-toe 
through  bohemia,  but  she's  afraid  of  her  petticoats. 

EMILE — She  will  never  be  an  artist. 

FRITZ — But  she  makes  very  nice  little  pictures 
already. 

LIONE — (Sneeringly.)  Nobody  said  she  didn't. 
You  have  charity  to  burn. 

FRITZ — I  would  like  to  give  some  of  it  away. 

LIONE — Oh,  you  mean  I  am  uncharitable.  Just 
because  I'm  not  a  fool  and  can  see  what's  what  as 
plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face. 

WELLS — (Dreading  Lionels  temper.)  Well,  I 
must  skip.  I've  got  to  rewrite  a  whole  play  to 
night.  Come  on,  Emile.  (Putting  Emile  to  the 
door.) 


ACT  I  31 

EMILE — No,  I  vill  not — 

WELLS — Come  on.  Come  on.  Good  night. 
Hope  you  make  a  hit  to-night,  Lione.  (He  pulls 
Emile  out,  closing  the  door.) 

LIONE — Pray,  what  did  you  mean  by  that  speech? 

FRITZ — You  seem  to  tink  you  know. 

LIONE — I  wish  you  wouldn't  imply  before  other 
people  that  you  think  I'm  uncharitable  to  Frank.  I 
have  the  greatest  charity.  I  don't  care  what  she  has 
done,  or  is  doing,  or  how  many  lovers  she  has.  All 
I  ask  is  that  she  doesn't  pose.  It's  absurd  the  atti 
tude  she  takes  of  being  strong  minded  and  inde 
pendent  and  it  makes  me  sick — simply  sick  to  see 
her  fool  you  and  lead  you  around  by  the  nose. 

FRITZ— Sh !  Be  careful ! 

LIONE — Anybody — anybody  can  see  that  it's  Gas- 
kell.  She's  flirting  with  you  and  fooling  you  and 
using  you  as  a  blind — 

FRITZ— What  if  she  do  lof  Gaskell?  What  of  it? 

LIONE — What  of  it? 

FRITZ — Dot — don't  mean  der  is  anything  wrong 
or  dot  dere  iss  any  reason  for  everybody  in  de  house 
to  talk  and  whisper  and  hint. 

LIONE — I  don't  know  whether  you  are  so  simple 
that  you  don't  see — or  so  crazy  about  her  that  you 
lie  for  her. 

FRITZ — Lie  for  her?  Ah,  Lione,  why  do  you  do 
dis  ?  Are  you  out  of  your  head  ?  You  are  making  it 


32  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

all  up. 

LIONE — Don't  you  say  that  to  me.  I  not  only 
believe  what  I  say — but  something  else. 

FRITZ— What? 

LIONE — Have  you  ever  thought — Does  Kiddie 
make  you  think  of  anyone? 

FRITZ — What  do  you  mean? 

LIONE — I'll  tell  you  some  day — when  I'm  sure. 

FRITZ — I  don't  understand  you.  (He  turns 
tharply  and  goes  to  lower  window.  She  follows 
him.) 

LIONE — You're  a  fool!  a  fool — a  fool!  I'm  only 
trying  to  save  you.  Now  you've  made  me  angry, 
Fritz,  and  I  won't  sing  well. 

FRITZ — Oh,  yes,  you  will.  You  are  very  beauti 
ful  to-night. 

LIONE — You  only  say  that  to —  (Lifting  her  face 
to  him.)  Do  you  really  think  I  am,  Fritzie? 

FRITZ — I  tink  it,  yah.  Und  I  tink  it  iss  time  to 
go  already. 

LIONE — Come  on  then — I'll  get  my  coat. 

FRITZ — You  get  your  coat  und  I  come. 

LIONE — You  want  to  see  her.  Stay  with  her 
then.  I  don't  want  you  to  go  with  me. 

FRITZ — I  will  come  as  soon  as  I — 

LIONE — Stay  with  her.  I  won't  be  made  a  fool 
of. 

FRITZ — I  vill  come  in  ten  minutes. 


ACT  I  33 

LIONE — I  don't  want  you.  (Rushing  out  and 
closing  the  door  with  a  bang.) 

FRITZ — (Calling.)  I  will  come.  (Fritz  sighs 
and  going  to  piano,  plays  again  as  Frank  en 
ters.  She  goes  quietly  to  her  desk — drawing  pen 
and  paper  towards  her.  Fritz  goes  to  stand  at 
L.  of  desk.  She  smiles  up  at  him  with  comfortable 
affection.) 

FRITZ — You  are  tired  to-night,  Yah?     Un? 

FRANK — A  little  Fritz. 

FRITZ — Und  you  must  work  yet? 

FRANK — I'm  going  out  later. 

FRITZ — Oh,  no.     Don't  do  dot! 

FRANK — Oh,  I  must.  If  I  get  what  I'm  after  to 
night  I'll  have  a  fine  study.  I'm  going  to  have 
supper  with  a  girl  from  the  East  side. 

FRITZ — I  vill  be  back.    I  vill  go  with  you. 

FRANK — Indeed  you  won't. 

FRITZ — But,  I  don't  want  you  to  go — alone — at 
night. 

FRANK — Now — now — Fritzie — if  you  get  fid 
gety  — 

FRITZ — Oh — but  de  talk — de  talk — I  can't  stand 
it  for  you.  When  you  go  out  like  dis  people  don't 
believe  it  is  for  your  work.  They  say  you  have  a 
lover — they  say  he  writes  your  books. 

FRANK — That's  very  flattering.  It  means  that 
they  think  they  are  too  good  for  a  woman  to  do. 


34  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRITZ — But  you  see  you  make  dem  talk  when 
you  do  foolish  things. 

FRANK — Foolish?  You  mean  going  out  alone? 
Good  Heavens !  You  don't  supose  I'm  going  to  give 
up  all  my  chances  of  seeing  and  knowing  and  un 
derstanding  just  because  a  few  silly  people  are  tally 
ing  about  me? 

FRITZ — But  you  are  a  woman.  You  must  not 
expect  people  to  trust  you — too  much. 

FRANK — I'm  not  going  to  spend  my  life  ex 
plaining. 

FRITZ — (Sitting  at  L.  of  desk.)     No — but  you — 

FRANK — Oh,  Fritz,  don't.  You've  been  so  nice 
and  so  comfortable.  And  now  you're  beginning  to 
worry.  You  see  how  much  better  it  would  have 
been  for  both  of  us  if  I'd  never  told  you  anything 
about  myself  and  about  Kiddie. 

FRITZ — Don't  say  that.  You  have  to  talk  to 
somebody — sometimes.  Don't  say  you  are  sorry  you 
told  me,  dot  was  de  most  natural  ting  I  haf  ever 
seen  you  do. 

FRANK — Natural?  Surely,  I  am  nothing  but 
natural.  I'm  a  natural  woman — because  I've  been 
a  free  one.  Living  alone  with  my  father  all  those 
years  made  me  so.  He  took  me  with  him  every  pos 
sible  place. 

FRITZ — Ah — but  he  was  with  you  to  protect  you. 


ACT  I  35 

FRANK — I  didn't  need  much  protection.  Dad 
wanted  me  to  see — to  know — to  touch  all  kinds  of 
life — and  I  surely  did.  He  developed  all  his  stor 
ies  by  telling  them  aloud  to  me.  He  used  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  little  library  and  talk  out  his  char 
acters.  So  I  began  to  balance  men  and  women  very 
early — and  the  more  I  knew — the  more  I  tho't  the 
women  had  the  worst  of  it. 

FRITZ — Something  has  made  you  bitter  to  men. 

FRANK — Kiddie  has  made  me  better.  Poor 
little  nameless  fellow!  I  shall  never  forget  the 
night  his  mother  came  to  us.  I  didn't  know  her 
very  well — she  was  only  one  of  the  hundreds  of 
American  girls  studying  in  Paris — but  she  came  to 
me  because  she  wanted  to  get  away  from  her  own 
set.  We  kept  her  and  she  died  when  Kiddie  was 
born — and  then  we  kept  him — because  we  didn't 
know  what  else  in  God's  world  to  do  with  him — 
and  then  we  loved  him — and  after  father  died — 
some  how  that  poor,  little,  helpless  baby  was  the 
greatest  comfort  in  the  world  to  me.  I  couldn't 
bear  Paris  without  dad,  so  I  came  back  to  Amer 
ica.  Kiddie  was  two  then,  and  we  set  up  house  in 
this  old  place  three  years  ago — and  here  we  are — 
and  it's  nobody's  business  who  he  is.  I  don't  know 
who  his  father  was  I  don't  care  who  he  was — but 
my  name  is  better  for  the  boy  than  his — for  mine 
is  honest. 


36  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRITZ — I  tink  it  iss  a  too  bad  ting  to  be  a  woman 
wid  a  big  mind,  a  big  soul.  Yah,  I  tink  it.  But  I 
am  glad  you  are  one  already. 

FRANK — Dear  old  Fritz! 

FRITZ — I  only  wonder  wat  vill  be  de  end. 

FRANK — Kiddie  will  be  the  end  of  everything  for 
me. 

FRITZ — No — he  vill  not.  Someday  you  vill  lof 
a  strong  man — and  he  vill  change  it  all. 

FRANK — You  don't  believe  me  of  course.  But, 
its  Kiddie — Kiddie  I  am  living  for.  Everything  I 
believe  about  men  and  women  has  been  so  intensi 
fied  by  him  that  he  has  become  a  sort  of  symbol  to 
me  of  what  women  suffer  through  men — and  he's 
given  me  a  purpose — something  to  do. 

FRITZ — I  tink  Malcolm  Gaskell  has  cut  me  out 
wid — Kiddie. 

FRANK — Nonsense!  Nobody  could  do  that. 

FRITZ — I  am  not  so  sure.  I  think  Gaskell  can 
get  most  anything  he  want — if  he  try. 

FRANK — Why  don't  you  like  him,   Fritz? 

FRITZ — He  isn't  de  kind  of  a  man  dot  every 
body  knows  all  about  and  can  trust  de  first  time 
you  see  him. 

FRANK — Yes,  he  i?.  That's  just  what  Gaskell  is. 
Whatever  his  faults  may  be  at  least  they're  honest, 
right  out  from  the  shoulder! 

FRITZ — I  am  not — so  sure,     (A  pause.)     Don't 


ACT  I  37 

be  sorry  to-morrow  that  you  haf  talked  a  liddle  to 
night.  It's  gute  for  you — und  don't  tink  I  don't 
understand.  Gute  nacht.  (Giving  her  his  hand.) 

FRANK — Good  night  Fritz.  (Fritz  goes  up  to  ta 
ble  by  piano  and  picks  up  his  violin  case  and  overcoat 
There  is  a  knock  at  hall  door.) 

FRANK — Open  the  door.  (Fritz  opens  door  and 
Malcolm  Gaskell  stands  in  the  doorway.  He  is  a 
tall,  powerful  looking  man,  about  40.  The  face  is 
strong  and  reckless.) 

FRITZ — Speaking  of  the  devil — here  iss  the  old 
boy  himself. 

GASKELL — Hello,  Bahn,  you  here?  Good  even 
ing,  Miss  Ware. 

FRANK — Good  evening,  Mr.  Gaskell. 

FRITZ — Yah — I  am  here — but  I  am  going.  She 
is  very  tired  and  very  busy. 

GASKELL — You  must  have  stayed  too  long.  (T« 
Frank.)  Why  didn't  you  send  him  away? 

FRITZ— She  did. 

GASKELL — That's  good.  I  came  to  borrow  a 
book. 

FRANK — Help  yourself. 

GASKELL — (Going  to  table  up  L.  and  se 
lecting  book  he  sits  carelessly  on  couch.)  Thanks. 
(Fritz  still  stands  by  door  watching  Gaskell.)  You 
don't  seem  to  be  going? 

FRITZ — No,  I'm  holding  the  door  open  for  you. 


38  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

GASKELL — I'd  rather  you'd  shut  it  for  me. 

FRITZ — Veil — I  haf  done  my  best — you  see  he 
is  going  to  stay.  (Frank  watches  -both  men,  much 
amused.  Fritz  starts  to  go  as  Lione  appears  in 
doorway.  She  wears  a  long  coat  and  is  drawing  on 
her  gloves  petulantly.) 

LIONE — Well — really,  I  tho't  you  were  coming 
for  me. 

FRITZ — Yah — I  am  just  coming. 

LIONE — I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  going  after  my 
escorts. 

FRITZ — Ach — Lione. 

LIONE — It's  frightfully  late.  Of  course  some 
people  are  such  sirens.  (With  a  withering  glance 
at  Frank.)  Oh — Mr.  Gaskell — too.  You're  so 
popular,  Frank. 

FRANK — I  am  with  some  people.  You  don't  ap 
preciate  me,  Lione. 

LIONE — At  least  I  understand  you.  I'm  ready, 
Fritz.  (She  sweeps  out — Fritz  following  meekly, 
nodding  to  Frank  as  he  closes  door.) 

GASKELL — You  ought  to  look  out  for  the  stilet 
to  under  that  Italian  cloak.  I  am  sure  she's  got  it 
ready  for  you. 

FRANK — Don't  laugh. 

GASKELL — (Rising  and  going  C.)     Why  not? 

FRANK — It  isn't  a  joke — poor  girl. 

GASKELL — It  is  decidedly  a  joke  to  see  that  big 


ACT  I  39 

tempestuous  Lione  bow  down  to  the  little  pink  and 
white  Fritz. 

FRANK — You're  decidedly  off  when  you  call 
Fritz  pink  and  white. 

GASKELL — He  couldn't  be  that  and  love  you,  I 
suppose  ? 

FRANK — (Sitting  side-wise  in  the  chair  at  L.  of 
desk.)  What  did  you  come  for? 

GASKELL — Your  book.  I  want  to  read  it  again. 
You  haven't  given  me  a  copy. 

FRANK — Why  don't  you  buy  one  and  help  the 
sale? 

GASKELL — I  did  buy  one — but  I  threw  it  away 
— it  irritated  me. 

FRANK — Then  you  don't  need  another  one. 

GASKELL — No — I  don't  need  it — I  admit,  but 
I  want  it.  I  want  to  read  it  again.  I  want  to  see 
why  people  are  talking  about  it. 

FRANK — You  don't  see  then? 

GASKELL — I  don't  see  why  they  say  it's  so  strong. 
It's  clever  as  the  deuce  and  it's  got  a  lot  of  you  in 
it — but  it  isn't  big.  Our  paper  gave  you  a  darned 
good  criticism.  Did  you  see  it?  (Handing  her  a 
paper  from  his  pocket.) 

FRANK — ( Taking  paper  and  getting  scissors  from 
desk  she  goes  to  couch.)  Yes,  I  saw  it.  Much 
obliged  to  your  paper. 

GASKELL — (Following  her.)     Your  story's  all 


40  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

right — a  man  couldn't  have  done  it  any  better — 
your  people  are  clean  cut  as  a  man's. 

FRANK — Oh,  thank  you. 

GASKELL — (Standing  with  his  back  to  fire  look 
ing  down  at  her.)  But — it's  only  a  story.  You 
haven't  got  at  the  social  evil  in  the  real  sense.  You 
couldn't  tackle  that.  It's  too  big  for  you.  You've 
taken  the  poverty  and  the  wrongs  of  the  woman  on 
the  East  Side  as  an  effective  back-ground  for  your 
story,  and  you've  let  your  dare-devil  profligate  girl 
rail  against  men  and  the  world.  She  says  some 
darn  good  things — more  or  less  true — but — you 
don't  get  at  the  thing.  You  keep  banging  away 
about  woman — woman  and  what  she  could  do  for 
herself  if  she  would.  Why — this  is  a  man's  world. 
Women'll  never  change  anything. 

FRANK— Oh !     ( Smiling. ) 

GASKELL — Man  sets  the  standard  for  woman. 
He  knows  she's  better  then  he  is  and  he  demands 
that  she  be — and  if  she  isn't  she's  got  to  suffer  for 
it.  That's  the  whole  business  in  a  nut  shell — and 
you  know  it. 

FRANK — Oh,  don't  begin  that  again.  I  know 
your  arguments  backwards. 

GASKELL — How  did  you  happen  to  come  here 
anyway?  This  isn't  a  good  place  for  you  to  live. 

FRANK — Why  did  you? 

GASKELL — Oh,  this  is  all  right  for  a  man. 


ACT  I  4* 

FRANK — Rather  good  for  me  too.  The  house 
is  filled  with  independent  women  who  are  making 
their  own  living. 

GASKELL — And  you  also  have  a  little  court  of 
admirers  here — all  more  or  less  in  love  with  you — 
all  curious — most  of  them  doubting  and  all  of  them 
gossiping  about  you  to  beat  the  band.  Don't  you 
know  that? 

FRANK — Let's  talk  about  something  else  for  a 
change. 

GASKELL — Hang  it!  Somebody's  got  to  tell  you. 
You  can't  live  the  way  you  do  and  do  the  things 
you  do — without  running  your  head  into  a  noose 
— just  as  any  other  woman  would. 

FRANK— I  don't  know  why  you  take  the  trouble 
to  say  all  this. 

GASKELL — I  don't  know  why  I  do  myself,  for 
Lord  knows,  I  wouldn't  stop  you  in  anything  you're 
trying  to  do.  I  like  your  pluck.  I  say  go  on.  I  un 
derstand  you — but  you  needn't  think  for  a  mo 
ment  anybody  else  does.  I  don't  question  you.  I 
take  you  just  as  you  are.  I  suppose  you  think  this 
Dutchman  understands  you? 

FRANK — He  isn't  impertinent  to  say  the  least. 

GASKELL — No,  I  suppose  not.  He  wouldn't  dare 
to  disagree  with  you. 

FRANK — Oh,  yes  he  would.  Fritz  has  a  mind  of 
his  own  and  a  very  strong  character.  He  is  a  genius 


42  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

beside.  If  he  only  had  a  chance  to  be  heard.  I 
wish  you'd  do  something  for  him,  you  know  so 
many  people.  You've  got  a  lot  of  influence  in  that 
direction.  Don't  you  want  to? 

GASKELL — Do  you  really  want  me  to? 

FRANK — Oh,  awfully.  He  has  the  real  thing — 
you  know  he  has.  Don't  you  know  it? 

GASKELL — Oh,  I  suppose  so, — the  real  thing  is 
riddling — but  that's  not  much  for  a  man. 

FRANK — He's  here  without  friends — without 
money.  He  ought  to  be  heard. 

GASKELL — What  do  you  want  me  to  do? 

FRANK — Talk  him  up  to  somebody.  He  can't 
do  that  sort  of  thing  for  himself.  He's  too  sensi 
tive  and  too  fine. 

GASKELL — Sensitive  and  fine — be  hanged.  That 
won't  get  him  any  where. 

FRANK — (Rising  to  go  back  to  desk  with  the 
clipping.)  I  hate  you  when  you  say  things  like  that. 

GASKELL — (Catching  her  hand  as  she  passes 
him.)  Do  you  hate  me!  Do  you? 

FRANK — Then  don't  be  so — 

GASKELL — So  what — ?  Don't  you  think  I'm — 
What  do  you  think  of  me?  Tell  me. 

FRANK — I  think  you  don't  mean  half  you  say. 

GASKELL — Oh,  yes,  I  do.  And  a  good  deal 
more.  You  don't  mean  half  you  say — they're  only 
ideals. 


ACT  I  43 

FRANK— Oh! 

GASKELL — You'll  acknowledge  it  some  day — 
when  you  care  for  a  man.  You  won't  give  a  hang 
for  anything  you  ever  believed  then. 

FRANK — Oh,  yes,  I  will — and  I'll  care  what  he 
believes. 

GASKELL — (Bending  close  to  her.)  You'll  be 
lieve  that  you've  got  to  live  while  you  are  young 
and  you'll  believe  that  love  is  the  only  thing  that 
counts  much  for  a  woman. 

FRANK — No — no — no ! 

GASKELL — It  is.  Women  are  only  meant  to  be 
loved — and  men  have  got  to  take  care  of  them. 
That's  the  whole  business.  You'll  acknowledge 
it  some  day — when  you  do — love  somebody. 

FRANK — It  would  only  make  me  feel  more — 
more  than  ever  the  responsibility  of  love  of  life. 
(She  moves  back  from  him — looking  at  him  while 
she  speaks). 

GASKELL — (After  a  pause.)  Come  out  after 
while  and  have  a  bite  of  supper  with  me.  Will  you? 

FRANK — Oh,  couldn't — possibly.  (Sitting  at 
her  desk  and  drawing  a  MS.  towards  her.) 

GASKELL — Please. 

FRANK — No — really  I  can't.     I  have  to  work. 

GASKELL — Well — get  to  work  and  I'll  come 
back  for  you — any  time  you  say. 

FRANK — Can't.     I'm  going  out  at  twelve  any- 


44  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

way. 

GASKELL — Oh,  that's  different — if  you're  going 
out  to  supper  anyway. 

FRANK — I'm  going  to  have  supper  with  a  girl 
from  the  East  side. 

GASKELL — Why  in  the  name  of  heaven  are  you 
going  at  12  o'clock? 

FRANK — She  is  going  to  bring  her  sweetheart 
for  me  to  see  and  he  can't  get  off  any  other  time. 

GASKELL — I'll  go  with  you. 

FRANK — No,  you — 

GASKELL — Yes,  I  will. 

FRANK — Indeed  you  won't.  I  want  them  to  be 
natural  and  talk.  She's  had  a  tragic  story  and  this 
fellow  knows  all  about  it  and  is  going  to  marry 
her.  She  is  helping  me  a  lot  in  my  club  for  girls 
over  there — she  can  get  at  them  because  she's  been 
through  it  all  and  has  come  out  a  fine,  decent  wo 
man. 

GASKELL — I  can't  see  for  the  life  of  me  why  you 
go  banging  around  over  there — wasting  your  time 
— getting  into  all  sorts  of  disagreeable  things. 
What's  the  use? 

FRANK — What's  the  use?    I  call  it  some  use  to 
get  hold  of  about  a  dozen  girls  a  year  and  make 
them  want  to  lead  decent  lives. 
'    GASKELL — (After  a  pause.)     Are  you  going  to 
let  your  Fritz  go  with  you? 


ACT  I  45 

FRANK — Of  course  not. 

GASKELL — Thought  perhaps  you  would.  He 
makes  a  pretty  good  watch  dog  trotting  around  af 
ter  you.  Doesn't  he? 

FRANK — He  makes  a  pretty  good  friend.  (Ris 
ing)  You  must  skip  now.  I've  got  to  get  to  work! 

GASKELL — I  don't  want  to  go. 

FRANK — Come  on.  (They  walk  together  to 
door.) 

GASKELL — (Standing  in  the  open  door.)  You're 
awfully  hard  on  me. 

FRANK — Poor  you! 

GASKELL — That's  right.  You  don't  know  how 
nice  I  could  be  if  you  didn't  fight  with  me. 

FRANK — You  always  begin  it. 

GASKELL — Will  you  come  to  dinner  to-morrow 
night  and  see  a  show?  Will  you — will  you?  (Af 
ter  a  pause  she  nods  smilingly.)  Good.  (Taking 
her  hand.)  And  we  won't  fight?  (She  shakes  her 
head.)  Not  a  bit? 

FRANK — (Drawing  her  hand  away.)  Not  a 
bit. 

GASKELL — If  you  were  only  as  kind  to  me  as 
you  are  to — everybody  else — I'd  be — 

FRANK — You  wouldn't  like  me  at  all. 

GASKELL — Try  it. 

FRANK — I  couldn't.  Nobody  could  get  on  with 
you  without  fighting. 


46  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

GASKELL — Oh,  don't  say  that 

FRANK — It's  the  truth.  You're  a  head-strong, 
domineering — 

GASKELL — Just  because  I  don't  crawl  at  your 
feet  the  way  the  other  fellows  do.  Do  you  hate  me  ? 

FRANK — You  said  that  before.  Skip  now.  Good 
night. 

GASKELL — (Taking  book  out  of  pocket.}  Are 
you  going  to  give  me  this? 

FRANK — I  said  no. 

GASKELL — But  I've  got  it. 

FRANK — (Putting  her  hand  on  the  book.)  But 
I  haven't  given  it  to  you. 

GASKELL — You'll  never  give  me  anything.  I'll 
have  to  fight  for  it.  (He  snatches  her  hand  and 
kisses  her  wrist  and  arm  and  goes  out — closing  the 
door.  Hesitating  she  puts  her  hand  over  the  arm 
where  he  kissed  it  and  puts  her  arm  on  the  door 
hiding  her  face  in  it.) 

CURTAIN 


ACT  II. 

Scene — A  room  in  the  same  house,  occupied  by 
Clara  and  Lione.  Long  double  windows  at  back.  A 
single  door  at  L.  leading  into  hall.  A  single  door  at 
R.  opening  into  a  closet.  An  old-fashioned  fire 
place  below  closet  at  R. 

Down  R.  below  the  fire-place  a  large  hassock. 
Before  upper  end  of  fire-place  a  large  arm  chair. 
To  the  right  of  windows  at  back  a  couch  bed — 
covered  with  a  dark  cover,  and  holding  two  pil 
lows.  Before  the  windows  are  two  screens  for 
holding  pictures.  They  have  only  a  single  panel 
and  stand  on  spreading  feet,  and  are  made 
of  a  plain-wood  and  brown  canvas.  To  the  L. 
of  windows  is  a  wash  stand,  with  bowl,  pitcher, 
etc.,  of  flowered  china.  Above  the  door  at  L.  is  a 
bureau  crowded  with  toilet  articles,  a  small  china 
bowl,  a  few  books,  cigarettes,  matches,  etc. 

Half  hiding  the  bureau  and  wash-stand  is  a  large 
screen  of  four  leaves.  Below  the  screen  an  upright 
piano,  and  at  L.  C.  a  good  sized  round  table  with  a 
chair  between  it  and  the  piano.  A  chair  to  R.  of 
table,  and  one  below  it  to  the  L. 

At  L.  below  the  door  is  another  couch  bed,  cov 
ered  with  a  dark  cover,  and  holding  several  pillows. 
47 


48  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

On  the  table  C.  are  a  brass  tea  service  and  a  dozen 
teacups  and  saucers  of  various  kinds — and  a  white 
lace  cover. 

On  the  piano  are  piles  of  music  and  a  small  clock. 
The  mantel  holds  a  brass  candle  stick,  a  few  orna 
ments  and  a  great  many  photographs. 

The  furniture  is  old  fashioned,  heavy  black  wal 
nut.  The  walls  are  covered  with  a  dull  faded  pa 
per — which  is  badly  torn  above  the  couch  at  R. 
There  are  a  few  effective  pictures — water-colors 
prints,  etc.,  on  the  walls. 

Time — Four  weeks  later,  2  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon. 

At  curtain — Lione,  with  the  front  of  her  skirt 
turned  up  and  a  towel  pinned  over  it  as  on  apron, 
is  sitting  on  the  couch  down  L.,  polishing  a  brass 
candle  stick  with  a  flannel  rag.  Clara  wears  a  skirt 
and  shirt-waist,  which  do  not  meet  in  the  back,  and 
a  much  be-smeared  painting  apron.  The  same  lock 
of  hair  of  act  one  is  constantly  falling  over  her  face 
and  she  mechanically  pushes  it  back. 

CLARA — (Going  to  take  a  work-basket  from  the 
table  to  put  it  on  bureau  at  L.)  Oh,  dear!  I  hope 
it  pays  for  all  the  trouble.  Cousin  Mabel  may  have 
one  of  her  headaches  at  the  last  minute  and  not 
come  at  all.  She's  really  awfully  pleased  with  her 
miniature.  It  flatters  her  horribly.  I  do  want  to 
be  honest  and  true  in  my  work,  but  what  are  you 


ACT  II  49 

going  to  do?  No  woman  will  accept  a  miniature 
unless  it  does  flatter  her. 

LIONE — I  hope  to  goodness  somebody  gives  you 
an  order  after  this  affair.  I'm  ruining  my  hands 
cleaning  these  things. 

CLARA — Don't  do  them  well.  We'll  never  be 
ready  by  four  o'clock.  It's  two  now.  (Taking 
hat  from  arm  chair  and  dropping  on  her  knees  be 
fore  the  couch  up  R.  She  draws  a  hat  box  from  un 
der  the  bed  and  puts  the  hat  in  it.) 

LIONE — If  your  cousin  doesn't  come,  I'd  never 
speak  to  her  again  in  all  my  life,  if  I  were  you. 

CLARA — (Getting  flat  on  the  floor  to  reach  a 
dress  box  under  the  bed.)  Oh,  pooh!  She  wouldn't 
care  whether  I  did  or  not. 

LIONE — Your  cousin  Mabel's  a  damned  snob — 
that's  what  she  is. 

CLARA — (Taking  a  shabby  afternoon  gown  from 
the  box.) — Oh,  she  doesn't  mean  to  be.  She's  just 
like  everybody  else  in  her  world.  (Examining  the 
gown.) 

LIONE — I  hate  'em.  Ignorant,  idle,  society  wo 
men.  That's  all  they  are. 

CLARA — You'd  give  your  ears  to  be  one  tho'. 

LIONE — (Rising  and  leaving  candles  on  couch,  as 
she  goes  to  look  at  herself  at  bureau.)  I  wouldn't 
I  wouldn't  give  up  my  career  for  anything  on  earth. 

CLARA — Yes,  that's  what  I  used  to  think — but 


50  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

somehow,  I'm  not  so  keen  about  my — Goodness, 
this  is  mussed  and  shabby!  Absolutely  the  only 
rag  I've  got  to  wear.  (Hanging  the  gown  on  the 
chandelier  below  the  fireplace  she  pushes  the  box 
back — and  arranges  the  cover  on  couch.}  Oh,  I 
must  get  the  rest  of  the  miniatures  up.  Here's 
Kiddie's  picture.  Where's  the  best  place  to  put 
this? 

LIONE — I  think  Frank's  got  an  awful  nerve  to 
let  you  display  it  at  all. 

CLARA— Why? 

LIONE — Why  ?  Because  people  will  ask  who  he  is. 

CLARA — Oh,  well,  I'll  just  say  he's  a  little  boy 
that  Frank  Ware  adopted. 

LIONE — (Going  to  put  a  candle  stick  on  mantel.) 
Yes,  that  sounds  well. 

CLARA — Well,  it's  plausible.  (Putting  the  mina- 
ture  on  the  screen  and  standing  back  to  see  how 
it  looks.) 

LIONE — Not  to  me.  The  men  say  she  isn't  in 
love  with  Gaskell.  Why,  she  is,  head  over  heels — 
and  sometimes  I  think — 

CLARA— What? 

LIONE — Sometimes — I  think — (Going  to  Clara.) 
— he  is  Kiddie's  father. 

CLARA — What?  Oh,  horrible,  Lione.  She  nev 
er  saw  Gaskell  till  she  came  here. 

LIONE — Yes,  so  they  say.     Let  me  see  Kiddie's 


ACT  II  51 

picture.  Frank  used  to  live  in  Paris,  and  so  did 
Gaskell. 

CLARA — Oh,  Goodness!  I  never  dreamed  of 
such  a  thing. 

LIONE — (Going  to  sit  at  R.  of  table  and  looking 
closely  at  miniature.)  Several  times  I've  thought — 

CLARA — You'd  better  keep  on  working.  The 
tea  table  isn't  ready  at  all.  I  hope  to  goodness  no 
body  looks  behind  this  screen. 

LIONE — (Starting  as  she  looks  at  picture.)  It 
isn't  imagination.  I  do  see  it — as  true  as  I  live. 

CLARA — What's  the  matter? 

LIONE — Look!  Come  here. 

FRITZ — (Calling  as  he  knocks.)  Can  I  come 
in? 

CLARA — Yes,  come.  (Fritz  enters  carrying  a 
screen  like  the  others.  He  is  in  his  shirt-sleeves.) 
Oh,  you  angel!  Put  it  over  there.  The  screens  are 
perfectly  splendid.  I'm  so  grateful.  Really  I  am. 
You've  so  clever  to  have  made  them.  I  never  could 
have  afforded  to  have  them  if  you  hadn't — 

FRITZ — (Putting  screen  near  the  others.)  I  like 
to  do  it. 

CLARA — You're  a  genius,  Fritz. 

FRITZ — Yah — but  I  am  too  many  kinds  of  a 
one.  Dat  iss  my  trouble. 

CLARA — (As   they   adjust    the    screens.)       You 


52  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

ought  to  stick  to  your  violin.  That's  where  your 
genius  is. 

FRITZ — Yah.  But  de  great  American  public 
doesn't  seem  to  know  it. 

CLARA — Yes — I  know — I  know.  Isn't  it  awful? 
I  hope  to  goodness  somebody  gives  me  at  least  one 
order  from  this  exhibition. 

FRITZ — Oh,  yah,  you  get  some. 

CLARA — I  wish  I  were  as  cheerful  as  you  are. 
Did  you  ask  Emile  if  I  could  have  his  tapestry  for 
this  afternoon? 

FRITZ — Ach  du  lieber!  You  ask  him.  He  vill 
not  gif  it  to  me.  Dot  tapestry  is  de  apple  core  of 
his  eye. 

CLARA — I'm  going  to  ask  him  now.  It  won't 
hurt  it  a  bit  and  I  want  it  awfully  to  put  above 
that  couch  over  there — to  hide  the  hole  in  the  pa 
per.  (She  goes  out.) 

FRITZ — (Going  to  look  over  Lionels  shoulder.) 
What  are  you  looking  at? 

LlONE — (Hiding  the   miniature.}      Nothing. 

FRITZ — Let  me  see. 

LIONE — I've  just  decided  something.  Something 
I've  half  way  believed  for  a  long  time. 

FRITZ — What  is  dot? 

LIONE — I  don't  know  that  I'll  tell  you. 

FRITZ — Please. 

LIONE — I've  found  out  something  and  you'll  pre- 


ACT  II  53 

tend  not  to  see  it. 

FRITZ — How  do  you  know  that  unless  you  tell 
me  what  it  iss? 

LIONE — Because  I  know  you. 

FRITZ — Tell  me,  please — please.  You  have  very 
pretty  eyes. 

LIONE — Had  you  forgotten  that? 

FRITZ— No. 

LIONE — It's  the  last  woman  who  comes  along 
with  you,  Fritz. 

FRITZ — Every  woman  keeps  her  own  place  in  a 
man's  heart. 

LIONE — What  I  don't  understand  about  you  is 
— how  can  you  let  a  woman  flirt  with  you  when 
you  know  she  is  crazy  about  another  man. 

FRITZ — You  mean  Frank?  She  does  not  flirt 
with  me.  She  iss  a  friend. 

LIONE — Will  you  admit  that  she's  in  love  with 
Gaskell? 

FRITZ — She  don't  want  to  love  any  man. 

LIONE — Oh,  is  that  what  she  tells  you? 

FRITZ — No — no — she  tells  me  nodding.  Dat  iss 
what  I  tink. 

LIONE — You  do?  Well,  you're  about  as  wise  as 
a  kitten.  I  know  she's  in  love  with  Gaskell  and  I 
think  she  always  has  been — that  is — long  before  she 
came  here. 

FRITZ— Ach!   Why?  Why  you   tink   dot?    She 


54  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

never  know  him. 

LIONE — (Lifting  the  miniature.)  Whom  does 
Kiddie  look  like? 

FRITZ — What  do  you  mean? 

LIONE — Look. 

FRITZ — No,  no — I  will  not  look. 

LIONE — (Catching  his  arm.)  Why  won't  you 
look?  Are  you  afraid  to? 

FRITZ — No — no — I  am  not  afraid.  Why  should 
I  be? 

LIONE — Why  you  are  so  excited? 

FRITZ — I  am  not  excited. 

LIONE — You  are.  Oh!  You  see  the  resem 
blance  too,  do  you? 

FRITZ — What  resemblance?  I  don't  know  what 
you  are  talking  about. 

LIONE — Don't  you?  Who  is  he  like  thro'  the 
eyes? 

FRITZ — Who?  He  iss  like  himself. 

LIONE — (Holding  the  picture  before  him.)  It's 
Malcolm  Gaskell! 

FRITZ — (Closing  his  eyes.)  Ach  Gott!  What 
do  you  mean? 

LIONE — You  know  what  it  means.  Frank  came 
here  alone  with  this  child.  There  is  a  mystery 
about  her — then  Gaskell  comes — they're  in  love 
with  each  other  and  pretend  not  to  be.  I'll  bet  any 
thing  you  like,  Gaskell  is  this  boy's  father. 


ACT  II  55 

FRITZ — You  have  made  it  all  up. 

LIONE — You  either  know  it's  the  truth  or  you're 
afraid  it  is.  I'll  tell  her  that  I  know. 

FRITZ — No. 

LIONE — I  will — I  will — I  will.  There's  no  rea 
son  why  I  shouldn't  and  there's  every  reason  why 
I  should. 

FRITZ — Listen  to  me.  If  you  will  promise  to 
keep  still — if  you  will  promise  to  say  nodding  to 
anybody  about  it,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  tink. 

LIONE — (Looking  at  him  keenly.)  What's  that? 

FRITZ — Frank  has  told  us  he  is  de  child  of  a 
woman  who  died. 

LIONE — Yes — but  who  is  the  father? 

FRITZ — She  don't  know  who  de  fadder  was.  But 
when  Gaskell  first  came  here  /  see  dis  resemblance 
and  /  believe  he  is  de  boy's  fadder.  Maybe  he  don't 
know  it — maybe  he  do — but  Frank  don't  know  it. 
I  am  as  sure  of  dat  as  I  am  standing  here. 

LIONE — Fritz,  you  must  think  I'm  an  awful  fool. 
Of  all  the  cock  and  bull  stories  I  ever  heard — that's 
the  worst. 

FRITZ — It  might — it  might  be.  Dis  iss  a  strange 
und  funny  old  world. 

LIONE — But  it  isn't  as  funny  as  that.  Oh,  Fritz, 
I  want  to  save  you  from  this  woman,  from  her  in 
fluence. 

FRITZ — She  iss  de  best  influence  dot  efer  came  into 


56  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

my  life. 

LIONE — What's  going  to  come  of  it? 

FRITZ — Nodding. 

LIONE — You  love  her? 

FRITZ — You  are  two  women,  Lione.  You  and  I 
used  to  haf  such  good  times  togedder.  I  lof  your 
voice,  Lione,  you  haf  someding  great  in  it.  I  like 
to  play  for  you  when  you  sing.  You  are  so  jolly 
and  so  sweet  when  you — when  you  are  nice.  Why 
can't  it  always  be  so?  Why  can't  we  always  be 
friends? 

LIONE — She's  changed  everything.  She's  spoiled 
everything.  She's  ruining  your  life — and  I'm  try 
ing  to  save  you. 

FRITZ — No — Lione — you  don't — 

LIONE — I've  wasted  my  friendship  on  you— 
wasted  it — wasted  it — ! 

CLARA — (Opening  the  door.)  Yes — yes — if  I 
get  an  order  from  this  exhibition  I'll  blow  you  all 
to  a  supper.  (Emile  follows.  He  is  in  his  blouse 
and  carries  a  large  tapestry  over  his  shoulder. 
Wells  comes  next  carrying  a  quantity  of  curious 
daggers,  foils,  Indian  weapons,  etc.) 

EMILE — Where  will  you  have  it? 

CLARA — There — over  there.  (Pointing  above 
couch  up  R.  Put  that  stuff  on  the  arm  chair, 
Wells — till  we  put  it  up.  I'm  so  much  obliged. 

WELLS — (Striding  across  the  room  with  the  tap- 


ACT  II  57 

estry  dragging  he  stops  C.  and  recites  elaborately.) 
Clara,  I've  composed  an  ode  to  the  occasion. 

Ahem! 

Clara,  Clara's  giving  a  show, 
She  makes  miniatures,  you  know; 
She  gives  you  cake,  she  gives  you  tea, 
She's  polite  as  she  can  be. 
But  don't  just  eat  her  cake  and  tea, 
She  would  like  some  cash  you  see. 
Don't  say  just — "How  charming  dear. 
Oh,  how  quaint  and  sweet  and  queer!" 
But  let  her  paint  your  pretty  faces 
With  a  rose  bud  and  the  laces. 
Then  the  checks  that  you  have  sent 
Will  pay  our  Clara's  board  and  rent. 
(The  others  laugh  and  applaud.) 

WELLS — (Suddenly  seeing   Clara's  gown   hang 
ing  below  fireplace,  and  springing  back.)      Great 
Heavens!     Is  that  your  astral  body? 
CLARA — No,  it's  my  last  year's  body. 
EMILE — Where  did  you  say  to  put  zis? 
CLARA — (Going  to  couch  R.)     Right  over  this. 
It  will  cover  the  hole. 

EMILE — Mais!     Mon   Dieu!     Ze  tapestry  will 
not  show.    It  belong  to  Napoleon. 

WELLS — (Holding  out  Indian   hatchet.)      This 
belonged  to  George  Washington. 

CLARA — Get  up  there,  Emile.    You  take  the  oth- 


58  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

er  end,  Wells,  and  I'll  get  you  some  tacks. 

WELLS — (As  he  and    Emile    get    on    couch.) 
Where  are  you  going  to  put  the  weapons  of  war 
fare? 

CLARA — (Going  to  bureau  and  taking  tacks  out 
of  china  bowl.)  Right  over  the  tapestry. 

EMILE — Sacre!  You  are  not  going  to  put  ze 
relics  of  your  savages  with  ze  tapestry  of  Napoleon ! 

CLARA — (With  tacks  in  her  mouth.)  Why  not? 
It  will  be  effective  and  nobody  will  notice  whether 
they  really  go  together  or  not. 

EMILE — Zat  is  ze  American.  You  mix  your 
Art  until  nobody  knows  what  you  mean. 

CLARA — I  don't  want  it  to  mean  anything.  I 
want  it  to  cover  the  hole.  Here —  (Holding  up 
shabby  slipper  and  tacks.) 

EMILE— (Taking  slipper.)     What  is  zis  for? 

CLARA — To  pound  with,  of  course. 

WELLS — You  wouldn't  expect  that  artistic  tem 
perament  to  have  a  hammer,  would  you?  Go  on. 
Hold  up  your  end  and  fire  away,  Napoleon.  Don't 
stop  for  details.  (Emile  and  Wells  begin  to  hang 
the  tapestry.  Lione  has  sat  on  the  floor  by  the  couch 
down  L.  and  taking  a  box  from  under  it  gets  out 
teaspoons  which  she  rubs  with  a  towel.) 

CLARA — That  isn't  straight.     Lift  your  end — 

FRANK — (Coming  in  carrying  a  large  bunch  of 
roses  in  a  paper.  She  is  wearing  a  very  charming 


ACT  II  59 

afternoon  gown  and  hat.)      Hello,  everybody. 

ALL— (Except  Lione.)     Hello!  Hello,  Frank! 

FRANK — How're  you  getting  on?  Oh,  how  nice 
you're  going  to  look. 

CLARA — And  how  nice  you  look. 

FRANK — I   bought   these    for    your    tea    table. 

CLARA — You  darling!  Just  what  I  wanted.  But, 
how  awfully  extravagant! 

FRANK — Not  extravagant  at  all.  Marked  down 
on  the  corner.  Not  warranted  to  last  over  night — 
but  I  think  they'll  get  through  the  afternoon.  Have 
you  got  anything  to  put  them  in? 

CLARA — Nothing  high  enough. 

FRANK — Get  the  tall  vase  out  of  my  room — will 
you,  Fritz?  And  isn't  there  anything  else  you  want? 

LIONE — We  have  everything  we  want  thank  you. 

FRANK — You're  lucky.  Here's  the  key,  Fritz, 
will  you  get  the  vase? 

FRITZ — Yah,  I  get  it.  (Going  out  with  the 
key.) 

CLARA — (Moving  the  large  screen  so  the  bureau 
and  wash  stand  are  hidden.)  You'll  sit  here,  Frank, 
when  you  serve  the  tea. 

FRANK — (Squeezing  into  the  chair  between  the 
table  and  piano.)  Give  me  room  enough  to  get 
in. 

CLARA — Oh,  well,  you  can  get  in  before  the  peo 
ple  come.  Now,  Emile,  listen.  You  said  you'd  help 


6o  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

Frank  with  the  tea.  When  you  take  the  cups  away 
don't  move  the  screen  what  ever  you  do.  Just  hand 
them  around  like  this.  See — 

EMILE— Bien. 

CLARA — And  Mrs.  Grumper  will  be  behind  the 
screen  washing. 

WELLS— What? 

CLARA — Washing  cups,  you  goose! 

WELLS— Oh! 

CLARA — And  all  you  have  to  do,  Emile — 

WELLS — All  you  have  to  do  is  to  whisper — "One 
wash." 

FRANK — (Laughing.)  What  are  you  going  to 
have — just  tea? 

CLARA — Heavens  yes.  Don't  you  think  it's 
enough  ? 

FRANK — Oh,  of  course.    I  only  wanted  to  know. 

WELLS — Nothing  else — on  the  side? 

CLARA — Oh,  I  wouldn't  dare.  Cousin  Mabel 
would  say  there  was  drinking  and  carousing  going 
on. 

WELLS — Give  Cousin  Mabel  a  drink  or  two 
and  she  might  pay  for  her  picture. 

FRANK — Kiddie's  quite  excited  about  his  picture 
being  displayed.  (Lione  looks  up  at  Frank  quickly 
and  watches  her  a  moment.)  He  said  this  morning 
— "Don't  you  think  I  ought  to  be  there  and  see  if 
they  could  guess  who  it  is?" 


ACT  II  61 

CLARA — Bless  his  heart! 

WELLS — Yes,  you  might  make  it  a  guessing  party, 
Clara. 

LIONE — To  guess  who  Kiddie  is,  you  mean? 
(There  is  a  slight  pause  as  they  all  look  from  Lione 
to  Frank.) 

WELLS — I  meant  to  guess  which  is  Kiddie's  pic 
ture. 

FRANK — We  might  all  guess  now — what  Lione 
means.  (A  pause — Lione  rises  puts  spoons  on  ta 
ble — looks  at  Frank  and  goes  up  to  window.) 

FRITZ — (Enters  with  medium  sized  glass  vase.) 
Here  you  are. 

FRANK — No,  you  aren't.  That  isn't  it  at  all.  I 
meant  the  tall  one. 

FRITZ — Ach  du  liever !  Dis  iss  all  I  see. 

FRANK — (Rising.)     I'll  get  it. 

FRITZ — No — I'll  go  back.     I  am  sorry. 

FRANK — I'd  rather  go — thank  you.  I  want  to 
get  something  else.  Oh,  Clara, — don't  you  want 
some  more  pillows  and  rugs  and  things? 

CLARA — I'd  just  love  them. 

FRANK — And  are  you  going  to  wear  that? 
(Pointing  to  the  gown  hanging  on  the  chandelier.) 

CLARA — Yes — It's  all  I've  got. 

FRANK — Don't  you  think  it  would  be  rather 
pretty  with  that  little  lace  jacket  of  mine  over  it? 

CLARA — Oh,  heavenly!    May  I? 


62  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRANK — Of  course.  (Clara  pushes  her  lock  of 
hair  back.)  And  I  wish  you'd  let  me  do  your  hair. 
I'd  love  to  try  it  a  different  way. 

CLARA — You're  an  angel.  I  wish  you  would.  I 
don't  seem  to  be  able  to  make  it  stay  up.  It  drives 
Cousin  Mabel  crazy.  Wells  says  it's  temperament, 
you  know.  (Giggling.) 

FRANK — Well,  lets  see  if  we  can't  hold  your  tem 
perament  in  a  little. 

CLARA — You're  awfully  good,  Frank.  Really 
you  are. 

FRANK — Nonsense!  Fritz,  will  you  come  and 
help  me  bring  some  things?  Fritz! 

FRITZ— Yah? 

FRANK — Will  you  come  and  help  me  bring  some 
things? 

FRITZ — Oh,  yah,  I  come.  (He  goes  out  with 
Frank  closing  the  door.) 

CLARA — Frank's  a  dear.  She's  got  the  biggest 
heart. 

EMILE — I  do  not  sink  Fritz  tinks  her  heart  is 
quite  big  enough.  He  would  like  to  get  in. 

WELLS — (Kicking  Emile  and  looking  at  Lione.) 
You  don't  know  anything  about  her  heart. 

CLARA — I  wish  I  did.  I  think  it  would  be  aw 
fully  interesting  to  know  whether  she  really  cares 
for  Gaskell  or  not. 

WELLS — Give  us  more  bric-a-brac,  Clara,  if  you 


ACT  II  63 

want  it  all  up. 

CLARA — Oh,  yes,  use  it  all.  (Giving  Wells  an 
other  weapon  from  chair.) 

EMILE — I  tell  you  she  love  somebody.  Zat  iss 
her  charm — her  mystery.  She  could  not  be  what 
she  iss  wiz  out  love. 

WELLS — She's  a  mystery  to  me  all  right,  all 
right. 

CLARA — She  certainly  is  to  me. 

LIONE — She  certainly  is  not  to  me.  Look  here 
— all  of  you.  (Holding  out  the  picture.)  Whom 
does  Kiddie  look  like? 

CLARA — Oh,  gracious!    What  do  you  mean? 

LIONE — Simply  what  I  say.  Whom  does  he  look 
like? 

EMILE — You  mean  like  Frank? 

LIONE — No,  no.  Not  like  Frank.  Look  now — 
thro'  the  eyes. 

CLARA — I  don't  see  it — and  I  ought  to  if  any 
body  does — I  painted  it.  What  do  you  mean,  Lione, 
anybody  we  know? 

WELLS — You  couldn't  very  well  see  a  resem 
blance  to  anybody  you  didn't  know. 

CLARA — Well,  dear  me.  I  don't  see — thro'  the 
eyes —  Oh,  Heaven's — yes — I  do. 

LIONE — You  see  it!  Wait! — Don't  say  anything. 

WELLS — Oh,  you  can  imagine  anything. 

LIONE — You   can't   imagine   anything  as  strong 


64  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

as  that. 

CLARA— Yes — I  actually — 

EMILE — Ah!  Mon  Dieu!  I  see  what  you  mean. 
It  is  Gaskell. 

WELLS— What— 

EMILE — Ah!  C'est  extraordinaire! 

LIONE — (Looking  triumphantly  at  Wells.)  We 
all  see  it. 

WELLS — Rot — rot!  Nothing  of  the  sort.  I  don't 
see  the  slightest — 

LIONE — We  see  it.    All  of  us. 

CLARA — I  think  I  do — I  did.  It  sort  of  comes 
and  goes. 

WELLS — Especially  goes.    I  don't  see  it. 

LIONE— You're  blind.  Look— it's  Gaskell.  That 
child  looks  like  Malcolm  Gaskell — and  any  body 
can  see  it.  Unless  they  don't  want  to. 

EMILE — Mais  oui!  I  see  it.  It  is  here,  the  eyes. 
For  you — Clara,  it  iz  wonderful — you  haf  caught 
ze  trick  wiz  ze  eyes. 

LIONE — Of  course  it's  there. 

CLARA — Oh  my!  I  think  it's  awful.  What  do 
you  mean,  Lione?  I  don't  know  what  you  mean. 

WELLS — Nothing.     It  doesn't  mean  anything. 

LIONE — Oh,  no.  Nobody  means  anything — no 
body  knows  anything — nobody  says  anything — but 
you  all  think  what  I  do — and  you  haven't  got  the 
courage  to  say  so.  I  have  you  know.  I  believe  in 


ACT  II  65 

saying  what  you  think — and  not  pretending  to  be 
fooled. 

WELLS — Well,  now,  what  of  it?  What  if  what 
you  imply  is  true.  What  of  it?  What's  the  good 
of  digging  it  up? 

CLARA — Oh,  dear!    I  don't  believe  it  at  all. 

EMILE — I  tell  you  all — all  ze  time — you  are  fool 
ish  as  babies  not  to  understand. 

WELLS — Oh,  yes,  you  understand  a  lot,  you  do. 
I  say,  what's  the  use  of  talking  about  it?  Let  it 
alone. 

LIONE — Oh,  very  well,  if  that's  the  sort  of  thing 
you  accept  and  believe  in — that's  your  affair — but  I 
don't  propose  to  help  a  woman  of  that  sort  keep  up 
appearances  by  pretending  that  I  don't  see  what's 
right  under  my  nose. 

CLARA — Oh,  dear!  I  never  was  in  anything  like 
this  before.  I  think  you  have  to  have  strict  ideas 
even  if  you  are  broadminded.  I  do  think — Oh, 
dear!  I  don't  know  what  to  think. 

EMILE — You  amuse  me — all.  You  pretend  to 
live  in  ze  world  of  art  and  freedom  and  yet  you 
make  ze  grand  fight  about — about  what?  What  are 
you  talking  about?  What  do  you  expect — you 
funny  Americans.  She  is  a  great  woman — she  must 
live  and  love  and — 

LIONE — You  needn't  say  that  to  me.  I  don't 
—  (Frank  knocks  and  opens  the  door.  Lione  puts 


66  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

the  miniature  back  in  her  blouse.  Frank  has  taken 
off  her  hat  and  coat.  She  carries  a  sofa  pillow  under 
each  arm,  and  the  lace  coat.  She  has  also  the  vase 
and  the  two  framed  pictures  in  silver  frames  in  her 
hands.  Fritz  follows  with  four  pillows  and  a  rug.) 

FRANK — (Laughing.)  We  met  old  Grumper  in 
the  hall  and  she  tho't  the  house  was  on  fire.  (An 
uncomfortable  pause.)  You  don't  seem  to  think  that 
is  funny.  (Putting  vase  on  table  and  throwing  the 
two  pillows  onto  the  couch  L.  she  hangs  the  coat  over 
screen.)  This  is  the  vase  I  meant.  (Fritz  goes  be 
hind  piano  and  filling  vase  from  pitcher  puts  it  on 
table  and  remains  up  C.) 

WELLS — Come  on,  girls,  your  lunch  is  ready. 
Sorry  we  didn't  know  you'd  be  home,  Frank.  We've 
only  got  enough  for  four. 

FRANK — That's  all  right.  I've  had  my  lun 
cheon. 

LIONE — Come  on,  Clara. 

CLARA — You  don't  mind  my  going,  do  you, 
Frank? 

FRANK — Of  course  not.  I'll  do  the  flowers  for 
you. 

WELLS — We've  only  got  salad  and  cheese. 
Thought  the  girls  wouldn't  have  time  to  go  out 
to-day — so  we're  setting  them  up. 

FRANK — How  nice  of  you ! 

EMILE — (To  Frank.)      You  are  an  angel.     Je 


ACT  II  67 

vous  adore. 

CLARA — I  hate  to  go  and  leave  you — but — 

LIONE — Come  on  Clara,  don't  keep  everybody 
waiting —  (Lione  goes  out.) 

WELLS — (Catching  Clara  by  L.  hand  and  pull 
ing  her  to  door.)  On,  Clara,  on,  to  the  feast.  On 
Clara,  let  us  be  mad  and  gay  while  life  is  fleeting. 
(Exit  Wells,  Emile,  and  Clara  laughing.) 

FRANK — Weren't  you  invited  to  the  party? 

FRITZ — Nein.    No,  I  was  not  invited. 

FRANK — Put  the  pillows  on  the  other  couch.  I 
do  hope  this  affair  does  Clara  some  good.  The 
screens  are  splendid.  Where's  Kiddie's  picture? 
Do  you  know? 

FRITZ — A — no,  I  don't  know. 

FRANK — (Going  to  look  on  the  screens.)  I 
don't  see  it. 

FRITZ — Oh,  I  think  she  has  not  yet  hung  them 
all. 

FRANK — It  looks  as  if  she  had.  I  don't  see  it. 
Funny!  Is  it  on  that  one? 

FRITZ — No. 

FRANK — Here's  a  vacant  space.  Maybe  she's 
taken  it  down.  I  wounder  where  it  is.  Oh! 

FRITZ — What  it  is? 

FRANK — I  just  tho't  of  something. 

FRITZ — What  is  dot  you  tink  of? 

FRANK — I  tho't  maybe  Lione  took  it  down.     I 


68  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

have  a  sort  of  feeling  about  the  miniature  from 
something  she  said  just  now.  Fritz,  tell  me 
honestly.  Do  they  talk  about  it  much?  Do  they? 
Oh,  they  do. 

FRITZ — Frankie,  I  want  you  to  do  something. 
You  must  tell  them — more  about  Kiddie. 

FRANK — No !  Fritz,  do  you  doubt  what  I've  told 
you  about  him? 

FRITZ — If  I  do  not  believe  you,  I  believe  nod 
ding  in  de  world.  But — 

FRANK — But  what? 

FRITZ — But  you  see  you  haf  gifen  me  your  con 
fidence.  You  haf  only  tell  a  little  to  dem — just 
enough  to  make  dem  doubt — and  it  hurts  you. 

FRANK — All  I  want  to  do  is  to  keep  still  and 
help  Kiddie  make  his  Iffe  clean  and  honest,  and  then 
let  the  world  judge  him  by  himself.  I  don't  see 
anything  foolish  in  that. 

FRITZ — That's  all  very  well  for  him — but  you 
must  think  of  yourself  too — your  reputation. 

FRANK — Now,  see  here,  Fritz,  I  care  just  as 
much  about  my  reputation  as  any  woman  in  the 
world,  but  this  talk  is  only  idle  gossip  and  curiosity 
and  I'm  not  going  to  let  that  force  me  to  do  a 
thing  that  I  know  isn't  right. 

FRITZ — Den  I  ask  you  something  else — Tell 
Lione — 

FRANK— No! 


ACT  II  69 

FRITZ — You  tink  I'm  crazy — but  I  tell  you  if  you 
make  Lione  your  friend — if  you  make  her  under 
stand  you — she  will  kill  all  de  talk — she  will  be  a 
help.  You  need  a  woman  on  your  side,  and  if  once 
you  get  Lione,  she  fight  for  you — and  she  wipe  up 
de  floor  mit  everybody  else. 

FRANK — I  don't  want  to  buy  her  friendship. 

FRITZ — No — no,  it  would  not  be  dot.  She — I 
tell  you  she  need  you,  too.  She  need  a  good  woman 
friend.  Lione  has  a  big  heart,  if  it  is — if  it  just  get 
hold  de  right  ting.  She  fight  you  now — but  it  is 
only  like  a  big  child  dat  don't  know  how  to  control 
its  badness.  If  you  just  get  her  once — you  could 
make  her  lof  you,  if  you  try — but  first  she  has  got 
to  belief  you. 

FRANK — You're  a  funny,  dear  old  boy,  Fritz. 
I'm  just  as  much  to  blame  as  Lione  when  we  scrap. 

FRITZ — Will  you  do  it?  Will  you  tell  her? 
Will  you? 

FRANK — Yes,  I  will. 

FRITZ— Ah— I  am  so  glad.  (  There  is  a  knock  at 
the  hall  door.) 

FRANK — Yes,  come  in. 

GASKELL — (Opening  door  wearing  his  hat  and 
coat.)  Hello!  (Looking  jealously  from  one  to  the 
other.) 

FRANK — (Moving  toward  GaskelL)  Oh,  hel 
lo,  what  are  you  doing  here  this  time  of  day?  Did 


70  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

you  come  to  the  exhibition  ?  You're  rather  early.  It 
doesn't  begin  till  four  o'clock. 

GASKELL — Oh,  is  this  the  day  for  the  show?  No 
— I  came  to — I  went  to  your  room,  Bahn,  and  I 
went  to  yours —  (To  Frank.)  There's  a  concert 
on  for  this  afternoon — and  the  young  violinist  who 
was  booked  to  play  is  laid  up — fell  and  broke  his 
arm  this  morning.  The  manager — Holbrooke,  is 
a  friend  of  mine,  and  called  me  up  because  I  had 
spoken  to  him  about  you.  (Nodding  to  Fritz.) 

FRANK — Oh — 

GASKELL — Will  you  go  on?  Will  you  play? 
Chance  of  your  life.  Cracker-jack  audience. 

FRANK — Oh,  your  chance  has  come  at  last  Fritz ! 
It's  too  splendid — I  could  cry — it's  too  splendid. 
You'll  play  the  concerto  and  then  you  must  play 
your  own  slumber  song.  It's  too  splendid — I  can't 
believe  it.  (Turning  to  Gaskell.)  Think  what  it 
means  to  him — Oh,  Fritz!  I'm  so  glad.  I'm  so — 
What  will  you  play,  Fritz? 

FRITZ — I  cannot  play. 

FRANK — What? 

FRITZ — I  cannot  play. 

FRANK — What  do  you  mean? 

FRITZ — Dot  is  what  I  mean.     I  cannot  play. 

FRANK — Have  you  gone  mad?  It's  the  chance 
of  your  life,  as  Mr.  Gaskell  says.  Are  you  fooling? 
Here's  the  opportunity — in  your  hand — are  you  go- 


ACT  II  7* 

ing  to  take  it? 

FRITZ — We  cannot  always  take  what  comes. 
(Looks  at  Gaskell.)  I  cannot  take  dis.  (He  goes 
out  closing  the  door.  Frank  and  Gaskell  stare  at 
the  door  for  an  instant.) 

FRANK — I  don't  understand. 

GASKELL — Impudent  pig-headed — irresponsible 
set — every  one  of  them.  How  do  they  expect  to 
get  along  if  they  don't  take  a  chance  when  you  hand 
it  out  to  them  ?  Bohemians !  Geniuses !  Damn  fools, 
I  say. 

FRANK — Oh,  Fritz,  isn't  like  that.  There's 
something  else — some  reason.  What  was  the  mat 
ter  with  him  ?  Something  came  over  him — I  don't — 

GASKELL — Why,  it's  me — that's  what's  the  mat 
ter  with  him.  He  won't  take  it  from  me,  because 
he's  so  jealous  of  you  he's  crazy.  If  I'd  known  he 
was  such  a  fool,  I'd  have  had  them  send  to  him  di 
rect,  so  he  wouldn't  have  known  I  had  anything  to 
do  with  it.  That  would  have  pleased  you?  But  I 
tho't  the  safest  and  quickest  way  to  get  him  was  to 
come  and  find  him  myself.  Sorry  I've  balled  it  up. 
You're  friend's  so  fine  and  sensitive  I  don't  know 
how  to  handle  him. 

FRANK — Don't  be  unjust  to  Fritz  just  because 
you've  lost  your  temper.  I  must  say  I  don't  blame 
you  for  that — he  did  seem  awfully  rude  and  un 
grateful,  but  I  know  he  didn't  mean  it.  He — 


7*  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

GASKELL — Mean  it?  Good  Lord,  what  did  he 
mean  then? 

FRANK — That's  just  what  I  don't  know. 

GASKELL — You're  trying  to  find  another  reason 
f6r  what's  just  plain  ordinary  jealousy.  Do  you 
want  me  to  keep  out  of  his  way? 

FRANK — Don't  be  ridiculous. 

GASKEL.  —  (Taking  both  her  hands.)  Do  you 
want  me  to  clear  out  and  let  you  alone? 

FRANK — (Trying  to  draw  her  hands  away.) 
This  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  case. 

GASKELL — Yes,  it  has.  Everything  to  do  with  it. 
He  doesn't  make  any  more  difference  to  me  than  a 
mosquito — but  if  you — good  God,  I  love  you — and 
you  know  it.  (He  catches  her  to  him  and  kisses 
for,  then  slowly  lets  her  go.  She  puts  her  hands 
over  her  face  and  turns  away.) 

GASKELL — I — you've  kept  me  outside.  I  know 
he  knows — the  whole  business — what  ever  it  is. 
You've  shut  me  out.  But  I  know  you're  making 
a  mistake  by  making  a  mystery  of  your  life. 

FRANK — You  mean  I  ought  to  tell  about 
Kiddie — explain  and  prove  every  bit  of  my  life? 

GASKELL — I  don't  put  it  that  way.  I  mean 
everything  ought  to  be — open — understood. 

FRANK — I  tho't  you  said  you  accepted  me  just  as 
you  see  me  here — just  as  you  accept  a  man. 

GASKELL — In  the  beginning  I  tho't  I  did.    But, 


ACT  II  n 

when  a  man  loves  a  woman — the  whole  world 
changes  to  him.  He  wants  to  protect  her — he  wants 
to  understand  her.  He  wants  to  look  into  her  eyes 
and  see  the  truth. 

FRANK — You're  afraid  of  what  you  might  see 
in  mine? 

GASKELL — Tell  me — what  ever  it  is. 

FRANK — Why  should  I? 

GASKELL — Frank,  don't  fool  with  me.  I  love 
you.  That's  why  I  ask.  That's  why  I  care.  I 
want  to  understand  you.  Why  won't  you  tell  me? 
Have  you  told  this  other  man? 

FRANK — He  never  asked  me.  ^ 

GASKELL — Do  you  love  him?  Are  you  going 
to  marry  him?  Are  you?  You've  got  to  tell  me 
that.  Are  you  going  to  marry  him? 

FRANK — No.  „  , 

GASKELL — Then  I'm  going  to  make  you  love 
me.  I  love  you.  I  love  you — I  tell  you.  This 
child  is  the  most  important  thing  in  your  life.  I  ask 
you  to  tell  me  what  he  is  to  you. 

FRANK — How  dare  you  say  that  to  me? 

GASKELL — Because  I  love  you.  That  gives  me 
the  right. 

FRANK — What  if  I  said  to  you ;  "I  love  you,  but 
I  don't  believe  you.  You  must  prove  to  me  that 
everything  in  your  life  has  been  just  what  /  think 
it  ought  to  be." 


74  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

GASKELL — I'm  a  man.  You're  a  woman.  I  love 
you.  I  have  the  right  to  know  your  life. 

FRANK — You  mean  if  Kiddie  were  my  own  child, 
you  couldn't  ask  me  to  marry  you? 

GASKELL — Is  he? 

FRANK — And  if  he  were?  Can't  a  woman  live 
thro'  that  and  be  the  better  for  it?  How  dare  a 
man  question  her!  How  dare  he! 

GASKELL — Do  you  mean — (Lione  throws  open 
the  door  and  stops  in  supercilious  surprise.) 

LIONE — Oh — I  beg  your  pardon!  I  didn't  know 
Mr.  Gaskell  was  here.  I  should  have  knocked. 

GASKELL — It's  always  a  pretty  good  idea  to 
knock,  don't  you  think? 

LIONE — Oh,  I  don't  know.  I'm  such  an  open 
frank,  sort  of  a  person  that  somehow  it  never  oc 
curs  to  me  that  I  ought  to  knock  at  the  door  of  my 
own  room.  (Emile,  Wells  and  Clara  follow  he? 
in.) 

FRANK — There  are  some  people  who  think  all 
doors  ought  to  be  open — always — even  to  the 
innermost  rooms  of  one's  soul — so  that  all  the 
curious  world  may  walk  in  and  look  about  and  see 
if  he  approves  of  what  he  finds  there. 

LIONE — Do  you  mean  I  am  one  of  those? 

FRANK — You  know  whether  you  are  or  not. 

LIONE — If  you  mean  I  am  curious  about  you, 
you're  mistaken.  I'm  not  curious — and  I  am  not 


ACT  II  73 

deceived. 

FRANK — Deceived  ? 

LIONE — No.  The  real  situation  is  too  apparent 
for  me  to  pretend  not  to  see  it. 

FRANK — You'll  have  to  speak  plainer  than  that. 

LIONE — Do  you  really  want  to  discuss  it  here? 

FRANK — I  do. 

LIONE — Well,  really,  if  you  insist.  A  certain 
resemblance  in  Kiddie's  miniature  attracted  my  at 
tention.  We  all  see  it. 

WELLS — I  object,  Lione — 

EMILE — If  you  please — 

CLARA — How  can  you,  Lione? 

FRANK — Where  is  Kiddie's  miniature.  I  couldn't 
find  it. 

CLARA — It  must  be  there. 

FRANK — No,  it  isn't. 

CLARA— Why,  I— 

LIONE — (Holding  it  out  to  Frank.)     Here  it  is. 

FRANK — A  certain  resemblance — you  say?  (Fritz 
comes  into  the  open  door.) 

LIONE — (Looking  at  Fritz.)     We  all  see  it. 

FRITZ — (Stepping  forward.)  You  have  broken 
your  promise. 

LIONE — No!  I  promised  if  you  told  the  truth — 
but  you  told  me  an  absurd  thing.  Fritz  saw  it  too, 
but  he  has  a  different  explanation,  of  course. 

FRITZ — (Looking  at  Frank  in  agony  of  appeal.) 


76  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

No!  Don't— 

GASKELL — What  do  you  all  mean  ?  What  resem 
blance  are  you  talking  about?  Confound  your  im 
pertinence!  What  do  you  mean? 

LIONE — I'll  tell  you — 

FRITZ — No,  you  will  not. 

LIONE — I  will.    Why  shouldn't  I  ?   I  will. 

FRITZ — No,  I  say  you  will  not. 

GASKELL — Tell  it — tell  it !  Say  it.  What  do  you 
mean? 

LIONE — I  mean — 

FRANK — You  needn't.  They  mean  that  Kiddie 
looks  like  me.  (A  pause.  They  stare  at  Frank  as 
she  walks  out  quietly.) 

CURTAIN. 


ACT  III 

Time — Six  hours  later.  Eight  o'clock  the  same 
evening. 

Place — Same  as  Act  I.  Chandelier  and  both 
lamps  are  lighted — shades  are  drawn  in  windows. 

At  curtain — Frank  wearing  a  house  gown  of 
striking  simplicity,  is  seated  by  table  sewing.  Kiddie 
on  the  couch,  is  reading  aloud. 

KIDDIE — (Reading.)  And — Fido — runs  and — 
gets — the  ball — f-r-o-m — from — the  water — and 
takes — it — to  his  m-a-s-t-e-r. 

FRANK — Master. 

KIDDIE — Master — and  Willie — takes — it — to  his 
f-a-t-h-e-r? 

FRANK — You  know  that. 

KIDDIE — No,  I  don't. 

FRANK — Look  at  it  again. 

KIDDIE — F-a-t  fatter. 

FRANK — No — no. 

KIDDIE — F-a-t-h — father. 

FRANK — Of  course. 

KIDDIE — What's  my  father? 

FRANK — Why  do  you  ask  that? 

KIDDIE — 'Cause  to-day  at  school  two  boys  were 
talking  about  their  fathers  and  one  said  his  was  a 
77 


?8  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

lawyer  and  one  of  'em  said  his  was  a  barber. 

FRANK — A  barber? 

KIDDIE — Or  a  banker — I  don't  remember. 

FRANK— Oh ! 

KIDDIE — And  they  asked  me  what  mine  was. 
What  is  he? 

FRANK — (Going  to  sit  beside  Kiddie.)  He  went 
away  a  long  time  ago — You  don't  want  him.  Aren't 
I  a  good  father?  Don't  I  give  you  all  you  need? 

KIDDIE — Maybe  I  don't  need  one — but  I'd  like — 

FRANK — Like  what? 

KIDDIE — Oh,  I'd  just  like  to  see  him  sittin' 
round. 

FRANK — I  love  you  as  much  as  if  I  were 
your  father  and  mother  and  sisters  and  brothers  and 
uncles  and  aunts.  You  have  to  be  all  those  to  me, 
too,  you  know,  because  I  haven't  any.  We  must 
tell  each  other  everything  and  keep  close  and  think 
all  the  time  of  how  we  can  make  each  other  happy. 
Mustn't  we? 

KIDDIE — If  you  want  to  make  me  happy,  why 
didn't  you  take  me  to  see  my  picture  this  afternoon  ? 
That  made  me  very  wwhappy. 

FRANK — It  made  me  unhappy  too,  but  I  really 
couldn't  take  you,  dearie.  Something  happened.  I 
really  couldn't  take  you.  I'm  so  sorry. 

KIDDIE — But  it's  just  down  stairs.  I  could  have 
gone  by  myself.  (Looking  at  her  closely.)  Have 


ACT  III  79 

you  been  crying? 

FRANK — No — no.    Are  my  eyes  red? 

KIDDIE — Your  nose  is. 

FRANK — Do  you  love  me? 

KIDDIE — You  bet. 

FRANK — How  much? 

KIDDIE — As  much  as —  (Stretching  his  arms  out 
full  length.  There  is  a  knock  at  door.) 

FRANK — Oh — 

FRANK — You  open  the  door,  Kiddie.  (Kiddie 
marches  to  the  door  and  opens  it  wide.  Gaskell 
stands  in  the  doorway.) 

KIDDIE — Goodie!     It's  Mr.  Gaskell. 

GASKELL — May  I  come  in? 

FRANK — I — don't — 

GASKELL — I'm  coming.     I  want  to  talk  to  you. 

KIDDIE — Don't  you  want  me  to  hear  it? 

GASKELL — Well — to  be  very  honest,  I  would  like 
to  talk  to  just  Miss  Ware — if  you  don't  mind. 

KIDDIE — I've  got  to  pick  up  my  paints  I  left  all 
over  the  floor  then  I'll  be  back.  (He  goes  out  L. 
closing  the  door.) 

GASKELL — I've  been  thinking — since  that — since 
this  afternoon.  I  was  a  cad.  At  least  that's  what 
I  seemed  to  you.  I  don't  know  what  those  other 
duffers  were  driving  at — Oh,  I  do  know  in  a  way — 
but — All  I  mean  is  that  I  love  you  and  ask  for 
your — confidence. 


80  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRANK — I'm  not  angry  now,  but  I  was  then 
— so  horribly  angry  and  hurt.  I  could  tell  you 
who  his  mother  was  and  prove  it  in  a  hundred 
ways  but  don't  ask  me  to  do  that.  Oh,  Malcolm — 
You  must  believe  me — just  me.  Look  at  me.  I 
give  you  the  one  love  of  my  life. 

GASKELL — (Catching  her  in  his  arms.)     Frank! 

FRANK — I  love  you.    I  love  you. 

GASKELL — My  darling !  It  was  hell  to  doubt  you, 
but  I  couldn't  help  it,  dear.  It  was  only  because  I 
love  you  so.  Because  I  want  you  to  be  the  most 
perfect  woman  in  the  world.  Do  you  understand? 

FRANK — And  don't  you  see  why  I  wanted  you 
— of  all  people  in  the  world  to  trust  me — in  every 
way?  Don't  you  understand? 

GASKELL — No,  not  quite.  (Sitting  beside  her.) 
When  will  you  marry  me  ? 

FRANK — Oh,  I  don't  know. 

GASKELL — I  want  to  take  care  of  you.  You 
need  it  as  much  as  any  woman  does.  Do  you  love 
me? 

FRANK — I've  tried — not  to. 

GASKELL — Don't  say  that.    Why? 

FRANK — I  haven't  wanted  to  love  anybody — and 
when  I  knew  I  was  beginning  to  care — I  didn't 
want  to. 

GASKELL — When  did  you  know  you — cared? 

FRANK — Oh — When  I  began  to  fight  with  you, 


ACT  III  81 

You  made  me  so  awfully  angry — and  then  I  was 
always  wretched  until  we  made  up.  I  began  to 
know  your  step  in  the  hall,  and  when  you  opened 
the  door  and  stood  there  I  knew  something  strong 
and  sweet,  something  stronger  than  myself  was  com 
ing  in. 

GASKELL — I'm  a  beast  in  lots  of  ways  and  stub 
born  as  a  mule — but  I  can  take  care  of  you  and  I'll 
be  good  to  you. 

FRANK — When  did  you  first  know  you  cared? 

GASKELL — From  the  first  minute  I  saw  you. 

FRANK — Oh,  every  man  says  that.  You  know 
that  isn't  true.  I  wouldn't  want  it  to  be.  I'll  tell 
you  when  I  first  knew  you  cared. 

GASKELL — When  ? 

FRANK — Do  you  remember  that  day — it  was — it 
was  Sunday  evening  about  three  months  ago.  You 
were  here  and  Fritz  came  in  with  some  roses  for 
me  and  you  didn't  look  at  me  for  the  rest  of  the 
evening.  You  talked  to  Clara  every  minute. 

GASKELL — Oh,  come,  I  wasn't  quite  such  an  ass 
as  that. 

FRANK — You  were.  You  were  just  as  silly  as 
you  could  be,  and  perfectly  adorable.  When  you'd 
gone  I — 

GASKELL — You  what — 

FRANK — I  won't  tell  you. 

GASKELL — Oh,  please  tell  me. 


82  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRANK — No. 

GASKELL — Oh,  please.  What  did  you  do  when 
I'd  gone? 

FRANK — I  won't  tell. 

GASKELL — I  don't  believe  you  love  me  at  all. 
Do  you? 

FRANK — Um — you  haven't  the  faintest  idea  how 
much. 

GASKELL — Well — tell  me — tell  me  how  much. 

FRANK — I  never  can.  You  don't  know  what  it 
means  for  a  woman  to  love  only  one  man  in  all  her 
life. 

GASKELL — Oh,  now  Frank — 

FRANK — It's  true.  You're  the  one  man,  Mal 
colm.  That's  why  I've  tried  to  resist  it  because  it 
means  so  terribly  much  to  me.  My  life  has  been 
filled  with  other  things  you  know — with  Kiddie — 
and  my  work.  They  absorbed  me  and  satisfied  me; 
and  when  you — when  love  began  to  crowd  in — to 
overpower  me — I  was  afraid.  It  seemed  almost  like 
being  a  traitor  to  myself.  Oh,  it  means  such  a — 
such  an  overwhelming  thing  for  a  woman  to  give 
up  to  love  after — she's — she's  been — 

GASKELL — After  she's  been  as  strong  and  inde 
pendent  as  you  have  been.  I'm  the  luckiest  dog  on 
earth.  I  don't  see  how  I  got  you. 

FRANK — Just  because  you  are  you.  Oh,  don't 
ever  disappoint  me.  Be  big  and  fine  and  honest  al- 


ACT  III  83 

ways — let  me  lean  on  you  and  worship  you. 

GASKELL — Kiss  me.  (She  puts  her  head  back 
and  he  bends  over  her  kissing  her.  Kiddie  opens  the 
door  and  comes  in,  standing  amazed.) 

KIDDIE — Is  that  what  you  were  talking  about — • 
kissing  her? 

GASKELL — No,  a  man  never  talks  much  about 
that. 

KIDDIE — (Going  to  Frank  and  throwing  his  arms 
about  her  and  kissing  her  fiercely.)  She  says  I  am 
the  only  man  that  can  kiss  her. 

GASKELL — Well,  let  me  see  if  I  can  do  it  like 
that. 

FRANK — No — no ! 

KIDDIE — What  made  you  let  him  do  it,  Frankie? 

GASKELL — I'll  tell  you. 

FRANK — No — no!  Please.  I'll  tell  you  after 
awhile,  Kiddie — when  I  put  you  to  bed. 

GASKELL — Will  you  kiss  me  too? 

KIDDIE — I'll  kick  you.     (Gaskell  laughs.) 

FRANK — Oh,  Kiddie,  you  don't  mean  that. 

KIDDIE — Yes,  I  do.  You  said  I  always  had  to 
take  care  of  you. 

FRANK— Yes— but—  (There  is  a  loud  knocking 
at  door  C.)  Oh,  heavens!  Go  over  there.  (Mo 
tioning  Gaskell  away.) 

KIDDIE — I'll  tell  on  you. 

FRANK — Kiddie,  you  won't  do  that,  will  you? 


84  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

You  never  tell  tales,  you  know.     Will  you?    (He 
hesitates  a  second,  then  shakes  his  head.) 

GASKELL — (In  a  very  loud  voice,  going  to  door.) 
If  you'll  come  down  to  my  room  with  me,  Kiddie, 
I'll  give  you — (He  opens  the  door — Clara  is  there 
waiting,  with  the  pillows,  coat,  etc.,  which  were 
borrowed.)  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  did  you 
knock? 

CLARA — Yes,  I  did. 

GASKELL — I'm  afraid  I  was  talking  so  loud  no 
body  heard  you.  I  say,  Kiddie,  if  you'll  come  down 
I'll  give  you — well,  you  can  tell  me  what  you  want 
most  when  we  get  there.  (After  slight  hesitation 
Kiddie  goes  to  Gaskell.) 

KIDDIE — I  haven't  forgiven  him,  but  I'd  like  to 
see  what  he's  got.  (Kiddie  goes  out  C. — followed 
by  Gaskell) 

CLARA — Here's  your  coat.  I  am  so  much  obliged. 
I  wore  it — but  I  must  say  I  was  rather  ashamed  to 
after  what  happened. 

FRANK — I  don't  care  now  what  happened. 

CLARA— Why? 

FRANK — Because  something  else  has  happened 
that  makes  that  affair  this  afternoon  seem  very  in 
significant. 

CLARA — Does  it?  I  tho't  you'd  be  so  furious 
with  everyone  of  us  that  you'd  never  speak  to  us 
again.  I  was  really  afraid  to  come  up — but  I  did. 


ACT  III  85 

FRANK — I  am  glad  you  did. 

CLARA — But  I  want  to  tell  you  I  wasn't  in  it. 
I  didn't— 

FRANK — Let's  not  talk  about  it.  Sit  down.  How 
was  the  exhibition? 

CLARA — A  fizzle.     A  perfect  fizzle. 

FRANK — Oh,  no.     I  am  so  sorry. 

CLARA — Cousin  Mabel  didn't  come  at  all.  Some 
people  she'd  asked  were  there,  and  of  all  the  snippy 
snobs  I  ever  saw!  They  only  stayed  a  minute  and 
were  so  out  of  breath  and  asked  me  how  I  could 
possibly  climb  two  flights.  Only  two  mind. 

FRANK — Good  thing  they  didn't  have  to  come  to 
see  me. 

CLARA — One  woman  asked  me  why  I  didn't  have 
one  of  those  lovely  studios  on  57th  St.  Oh,  dear, 
what's  the  use.  (Bursting  into  tears.)  I'm  so  dis 
couraged  I  don't  know  what  to  do. 

FRANK — Oh,  no,  you're  not.  You're  tired  and 
nervous. 

CLARA — Yes,  I  am  too  discouraged.  I've  tried 
just  as  hard  as  I  can  for  ten  years — and  scrimped 
and  scraped  and  taken  snubs  and  pretended  I  was 
ambitious  and  didn't  care  for  anything  but  my  work, 
and  look  at  me — don't  even  know  how  I  am  going 
to  pay  my  next  month's  rent.  I'm  so  sick  and  tired 
of  it  all  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  I'd  marry  any 
man  that  asked  me. 


86  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRANK — Now,  you're  not  going  to  lose  your 
nerve  like  this. 

CLARA — I  would.  I'd  marry  anything  that  could 
pay  the  bills.  Oh,  I  am  so  tired — so  tired  of  it  all. 

FRANK — Poor  little  girl.  It  is  a  hard  fight,  isn't 
it? 

CLARA — It  doesn't  pay.  I've  been  too  terribly 
respectable  and  conventional  all  my  life  to  succeed. 
If  I  were  like  you — you're  so  strong  and  independ 
ent — you  believe  in  women  taking  care  of  them 
selves. 

FRANK — I  believe  in  women  doing  the  thing 
they're  most  fitted  for.  You  should  have  married, 
Clara,  when  you  were  a  young  girl — and  been  tak 
en  care  of  all  your  life.  Why  didn't  you?  Don't 
you  believe  in  that? 

CLARA — No  man  has  ever  asked  me  to  marry 
him.  I've  never  had  a  beau — a  real  beau — in  my 
life.  I — I've  always  been  superfluous  and  plain. 
Absolutely  superfluous.  I'm  not  necessary  to  one 
single  human  being.  I'm  just  one  of  those  ever 
lasting  women  that  the  world  is  full  of.  There's 
nobody  to  take  care  of  me  and  I'm  simply  not  cap 
able  of  taking  care  of  myself.  I've  tried — God 
knows  I've  tried — and  what  is  the  use?  What  un 
der  Heaven's  do  I  get  out  of  it  ?  If  I  were  a  man — 
the  most  insignificant  little  runt  of  a  man — I  could 
persuade  some  woman  to  marry  me — and  could  have 


ACT  III  87 

a  home  and  children  and  hustle  for  my  living — and 
life  would  mean  something.  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it, 
Frank.  I  can't  bear  it!  I  often  wish  I  were  pretty 
and  bad  and  could  have  my  fling  and  die.  (Sob 
bing  she  falls  on  the  couch — huddled  and  helpless.) 

FRANK — Life  has  been  dull  and  common  place 
and  colorless  for  you — but  there  are  worse  things 
than  that.  You've  learned  that  life  is  easier  for 
men  than  for  women — you  know  what  it  is  to  strug 
gle  for  existence — come  and  help  me  in  some  of  the 
things  I'm  trying  to  do  for  girls.  I'd  like  to  have 
you  teach  drawing  and  modeling  in  this  new  club 
we're  opening. 

CLARA — Oh — would  you? 

FRANK — Would  you  be  willing  to  live  there? 
To  be  one  of  the  women  in  charge — and  help  the 
girls  in  a  personal  way? 

CLARA — Oh — do  you  think  I  could  help  any 
body? 

FRANK — Come  over  and  try  it,  Clara,  and  see. 
You'll  never  wish  again  that  you  were  pretty  and 
bad,  after  you've  seen  a  girl  come  off  the  streets 
and  get  to  be  a  decent  woman. 

CLARA — I  don't  think  I  could  actually  do  any 
thing,  but  Oh,  heavens,  Frank,  I  would  like  to  get 
hold  of  something. 

FRANK — You —  (A  ra-ta-tat-tat  at  the  door.) 
That's  Fritz. 


88  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

CLARA — (Wiping  her  eyes  and  blowing  her 
nose.)  Oh  dear,  I  don't  want  to  see  anyone.  I  am 
going  out  thro'  your  bedroom.  I — I  am  so,  awfully 
grateful,  Frank,  but — I — can't —  (She  chokes  with 
tears  and  hurries  out.  Another  rap — Frank  opens 
the  door.) 

FRITZ — I  would  like  to  see  you. 

FRANK — Come  in.  (She  goes  to  sit  in  arm 
chair  below  the  fire  and  Fritz  closing  the  door  goes 
to  couch.) 

FRITZ — You  tink  I  haf  broken  my  promise?  You 
tink  I  haf  been — dot  I  haf  talked  about  you  to 
Lione.  Dot  iss  true — but  not  in  de  way  that  you 
tink.  I  was  very  foolish  and  I  argue  wid  her  and  I 
say  a  very  foolish  ting — but  it  was  not  a  bad  ting 
— I  mean  it  was  not  about  you  at  all.  It  was  about 
you — but  it  wasn't.  I  don't  tink  anything  but  what 
I  always  haf  and  dot  iss  dot  you  are  de  best  and 
most  honest  woman  in  de  world.  Do  you  believe 
dot? 

FRANK — I  want  to  believe  it — but,  Oh,  Fritz, 
how  could  you  discuss  me  at  all?  I  tho't  you  were 
so  different  from  fte  others.  I've  told  you  every 
thing.  How  could  you  talk  about  it? 

FRITZ — I  know.  I  know  I  was  one  big  fool,  but 
I  lose  my  head — and  I  said  a  ting  I  wish  back. 

FRANK — And  something  else  that  disappointed 
me  awfully  this  afternoon.  Why  on  earth  didn't 


ACT  III  89 

you  take  the  chance  Mr.  Gaskell  gave  you  to  play? 

FRITZ — I  couldn't. 

FRANK — It  can't  be  because  of  Malcolm  Gaskell 
himself,  can  it? 

FRITZ — You  must  not  ask  me. 

FRANK — For  goodness  sake  speak  out.  I'm  sick 
of  suspicion  and  curiosity.  How  dare  they  take 
Kiddie's  picture  down  and  try  to  squeeze  some 
thing  out  of  it?  How  dare  they?  Of  course  they 
decided  that  he  looks  like  me.  Isn't  it  a  joke?  Let's 
not  have  any  more  made  up  scandals.  If  you  have 
anything  against  Gaskell  go  and  tell  him  so — like 
a  man. 

FRITZ — You  would  like  to  believe  in  him  above 
any  man  in  the  world? 

FRANK — I  do. 

FRITZ — Den  I  will  ask  him  some  ding — some 
body  has  got  to  do  it  for  you — but — if  anything  bad 
should  come  of  dis — 

FRANK — Oh — I'm  not  afraid — and  he  wouldn't 
lie  to  you! 

FRITZ — You  are  very  sure  of  him. — Don't — don't 
let  it — don't  let  it — mean  too  much  to  you  if — if 
he  is  not  de  man  you  tink.  It  would  mean  every 
thing  to  you,  won't  it?  Frankie,  don't — don't 
break  your  heart  about  a  man.  I — I  couldn't  bear 
it — if  anybody  hurt — you.  (He  raises  her  hand  to 
his  lips  and  she  slowly  puts  her  other  hand  on  his 


90  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

head.) 

FRANK — You — you've  been  so  good  to  me,  Fritz. 

FRITZ — Don't  tink  I  don't  want  to  find  him 
worthy  of  you — I  want  you  to  be  happy.  You 
know  dot,  don't  you? 

FRANK — I  do. 

FRITZ — He  iss  a  strong  man — he  iss  a  success. 
He  can  take  care  of  a  woman — he  has  not  failed. 

FRANK — Neither  have  you,  Fritz. 

FRITZ — I  haf  nodding  to  offer  a  woman. 

FRANK — You  have  to  offer  her  what  money 
can't  buy  for  her. 

FRITZ — No — the  devotion  of  a  life  time  don't 
count  unless  a  man  can  say;  "I  can  protect  you  from 
hunger  and  cold  and  keep  you  safe  for  always." — 
But — but  I  would  like  to  know  dot  some  man  will 
do  dot  and  dot  he  is  worthy  of  you. 

FRANK — You  dear  old  Fritz!  Your  friendship  is 
the  most  beautiful  thing  in  my  life.  Oh,  Fritz,  life 
is  so  hard!  Love  is  such  a  sad,  mad,  awful  thing. 
It  is  the  greatest  danger  in  the  world — isn't  it  the 
love  of  men  and  women.  If  we  could  only  get 
along  without  it.  We — you  and  I  must  be  friends 
— always,  Fritz.  (Her  voice  breaks.  He  tries  to 
speak,  but  turns  and  goes  quickly  out.) 

FRITZ — (Heard  in  the  hall.)  No,  no,  don't  go 
in. 

LIONE — I  will.    Yes,  I  will.     I  guess  I  can  see 


ACT  III  91 

her  if  you  can.  (Lione  rushes  in.)  I  don't  know 
what  Fritiz  has  been  telling  you  and  I  don't  care. 
You  said  you  wanted  me  to  speak  plainly — so  I 
suppose  you'd  like  to  hear  what  I  mean  and  why  I 
mean  it.  I've  come  up  as  soon  as  I  could  get  here. 

FRANK— Well? 

LIONE — Oh,  we  can't  be  blind,  you  know,  even 
to  please  you. 

FRANK — You  mean  Kiddie  looks  like  me — and 
you  draw  the  self  evident  conclusion. 

LIONE — Oh,  no,  not  at  all.  We  mean  he  looks 
like  Malcolm  Gaskell. 

FRANK— What? 

LIONE — Why  you  ever  let  him  come  here — why 
you  ever  undertook  such  a  pose  and  expected  to 
carry  it  out  is  more — (She  stops  as  Frank  goes 
slowly  toward  her.) 

FRANK — What  do  you  mean  ? 

LIONE — I  mean  he's  your  child  and  Malcolm 
Gaskell  is  his  father. 

FRANK — Lione,  don't  say  that.  Don't  lie  about 
a  thing  like  that — it's  too  awful.  Why  do  you? 
Kiddie  isn't  my  child.  I  can  prove  it  by  people  who 
knew  his  mother. 

LIONE — (Impressed  by  the  blaze  of  truth  in 
Frank's  eyes.)  Then — who — who  was  his  father? 

FRANK — I  don't  know  who  his  father  was. 

LIONE — For   God's   sake,   do  you   mean   that? 


92  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

Haven't  you  ever  had  a — Haven't  you  ever  seen 
the  resemblance  to  Gaskell? 

FRANK — No!  No!  No!  No!  Of  course  not!  Not 
the  slightest  bit  in  the  world.  (Hurrying  to  desk 
and  taking  miniature  out  of  drawer.)  It  isn't  there 
at  all.  He  doesn't  look  the  least  bit  like  him.  See 
— look!  (They  bend  over  the  picture.)  What  do 
you  see?  Where?  What?  I  don't  see  it.  Not  a 
thing.  Do  you  ? 

LIONE — Well — I — you — I — I  tho't  I  did. 

FRANK — Did  they  all  say  they  saw  it?  All  of 
them? 

LIONE — Yes — no,  not  all  of  them.  You  can  im 
agine  anything  in  a  picture. 

FRANK — What  did  Fritz  say? 

LIONE — He  believes  you — and  always  has.  From 
the  first. 

FRANK — But  he  saw  the  resemblance  to  Gas 
kell — tho't  he  saw  it?  (Starting.)  That's  what 
he  meant.  That's  what  he's  going  to  ask  Gaskell. 
Oh,  it  can't  be.  It  can't  be!  Look  again.  What 
did  you  think  was  like  him?  I  don't  see  a  thing. 
I'm  telling  the  truth,  as  I  live.  I'd  see  it  if  it  were 
— there.  What  is  it  you  think  is  like  him?  Tell 
me.  What?  What? 

LIONE — Thro  the  eyes. 

FRANK — The  eyes?  No — I  can't  see  it.  I  can't 
see  it.  It's  imagination.  You  can  imagine  any- 


ACT  III  93 

thing  in  a  picture.  You  don't  see  it  now  do  you? 
Oh,  Lione,  any  man — any  man  in  the  world  but 
Gaskell.  (Sinking  into  chair  at  R.  of  desk.) 

LIONE — I'm  sorry  I  stirred  this  up.  I  ought  to 
have  kept  my  mouth  shut.  It  was  imagination. 
Let  it  alone  I  say.  It's  the  wildest — most  improba 
ble  thing  in  the  world. 

FRANK — But  I've  got  to  know.  I've  got  to 
know. 

LIONE — Let  it  alone.  Good  Lord,  you  can't  stir 
up  any  man's  life.  You're  lucky  if  it  looks  right 
on  top.  If  you  love  him — take  him — that's  the 
point.  Let  it  alone. 

FRANK — Um — you  don't  understand.  Who  ever 
Kiddie's  father  is  I've  hated  him  all  these  years. 
Every  time  I  look  at  Kiddie  and  think  that  some 
where  in  the  world  is  a  man  who  branded  him  with 
the  shame  of —  Every  time  I  see  a  girl  who's  made 
a  mess  of  her  life  because  she's  loved  a  man,  I 
think  of  Kiddie's  poor  little  mother,  with  the  whole 
burden  and  disgrace  of  it — and  the  man  scott  free. 
I  tell  you  it's  horrible — the  whole  thing — the  rela 
tion  between  men  and  women.  Women  give  too 
much.  It's  made  me  afraid  to  love  any  man.  I've 
prided  myself  that  I  never  would — because  of  Kid 
die.  Because  I  saw  and  went  through  that — I  feel 
almost  as  deeply — as  bitterly — as  if  I  really  were 
his  mother.  Don't  you  see?  Don't  you  see? 


94  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

LIONE — I  suppose  it  does  make  a  difference  when 
a  thing  is  brought  home  to  you.  I've  never  thought 
much  about  the  whole  business  myself.  Men  are 
pigs  of  course.  They  take  all  they  can  get  and  don't 
give  any  more  than  they  have  to.  It's  a  man's 
world — that's  the  size  of  it.  What's  the  use  of 
knocking  your  head  against  things  you  can't  change  ? 
I  never  believed  before  that  you  really  meant  all 
this  helping  women  business.  What's  the  use? 
You  can't  change  anything  to  save  your  neck.  Men 
are  men. 

FRANK — If  women  decided  that  men  should  be 
equally  disgraced  for  the  same  sin,  they  would  be. 

LIONE — Oh,  yes — if — if.  That's  easy  enough  to 
preach.  When  it  comes  to  morality  a  woman  nev 
er  holds  anything  against  a  man.  What  good  would 
it  do  if  she  did?  She'd  be  alone.  Why,  see  here — 
what  if — just  suppose — that  Malcolm  Gaskell  were 
Kiddie's  father.  You  love  him,  and  love  is  no  joke 
with  you.  You've  let  yourself  go  at  last.  You've 
found  the  one  man.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?  Throw  him  over — because  you  happen  to 
find  a  little  incident  in  his  life  that  doesn't  jibe 
with  your  theory?  Where  will  you  be?  What  be 
comes  of  you?  Um?  Not  much  fun  for  you  for  the 
rest  of  your  life.  He's  the  man  you  want — take  him 
and  thank  your  lucky  stars  you  have  him.  That's 
all  I  see  in  it. 


ACT  III  95 

FRANK — It's  all  you  say.  He's  the  one  man — but 
if  it — were  true — 

LIONE— Well? 

FRANK — If  it  were  true — (She  shakes  her  head.) 

LIONE — Oh,  bosh!  Then  you  can't  marry  any 
man — they're  all  alike.  You  know — we've  worked 
ourselves  up  over  nothing  after  all.  I've  been  at 
the  bottom  of  all  that  picture  business.  It  was  easy 
enough  to  sort  of  hypnotize  the  others  into  it.  You 
can  see  anything  in  a  picture — in  Clara's  pictures. 
I've  always  been  looking  for  something  to  get  hold 
of  about  you  because  I  was  jealous.  I'm  a  fool 
about  Fritz.  (Frank  quickly  puts  a  hand  over 
Lione's.)  I  can't  sing  any  more.  I  can't  sleep.  I 
can't  eat.  I'm  a  fool  and  I  know  it,  but  I  can't  help 
it. 

FRANK — Go  away  from  him  for  awhile,  Lione, 
get  away  and  he'll  go  after  you. 

LIONE — Oh,  I  don't  know.    I  don't  know. 

FRANK — There  it  is!  Love!  What  fools  it 
makes  us.  Oh,  I'm  afraid  of  it! 

LIONE — I  don't  believe  this  thing's  true.  Brace 
up.  I  don't  believe  it — not  for  a  minute. 

FRANK — I  don't  either — now.  But  it  fright 
ened  me  when  you — 

KIDDIE — (Opening  door  and  pulling  Gaskell  in 
by  the  hand.)  Come  on.  He  didn't  have  anything 
I  wanted — but  this.  (Showing  a  large  pocket  knife. 


96  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

Frank  goes  quickly  into  her  room.)  It's  got  four 
blades.  Look  at  this  one. 

LIONE — That's  a  stunner — isn't  it? 

KIDDIE — I  can  cut  anything  with  it. 

LIONE — Mind  you  don't  cut  the  legs  off  the 
piano. 

KIDDIE — I  could.  I  could  cut  off  your  legs  too. 
(Kiddie  goes  to  curl  up  in  the  L.  end  of  couch — 
busy  opening  the  blades  of  the  knife.  There  is  a 
pause. ) 

LIONE — I  think  Frank  wants  you,  Kiddie. 

KIDDIE — Oh,  no,  she  don't. 

LIONE — (Looking  at  Gaskell.)  I've  just  been 
telling  Frank — 

GASKELL — What  ? 

LIONE — That  I'm  sorry  for  the  row  I  kicked  up 
this  afternoon.  I  think  everything  is  cleared  up 
now. 

GASKELL — A  row's  a  pretty  good  thing  once  in  a 
wrhile  for  clearing  the  atmosphere. 

LIONE — Well,  I  tell  you,  you  never  know  any 
body  through  and  through  till  you  fight  with  them. 
Good  night,  Kiddie.  (Lione  and  Gaskell  nod  to 
each  other  and  she  goes  out  closing  the  door.) 

GASKELL — (Going  to  R.  end  of  couch.)  Don't 
you  think  you  had  better  go  to  bed  now — and  ask — 
Miss  Ware,  if  I  can't  wait  to  see  her  ? 

KIDDIE — What  do  you  want  to  see  her  for? 


ACT  III  97 

GASKELL — Well,  several  things. 

KIDDIE — I  don't  know  if  I'll  let  you. 

GASKELL — Oh,  please. 

(Frank  opens  her  door  and  stands  watching 
them.) 

KIDDIE — I  like  you. 

GASKELL — I'm  glad. 

KIDDIE — I'm  much  obliged  for  the  knife.  (Giv 
ing  his  hand.) 

GASKELL — (Taking  Kiddie's  hand.)  Don't  men 
tion  it. 

KIDDIE — But  that  isn't  why  I  like  you. 

GASKELL — Why,  then? 

KIDDIE — Cause  I  do.  (Frank  moves  a  step 
toward  them.) 

GASKELL — (Taking  Kiddie's  other  hand.)  That's 
the  best  reason  in  the  world,  isn't  it? 

FRANK — You  must  say  good  night,  now,  Kiddie. 

KIDDIE — (To  Gaskell.)     Do  you  mind  if  I  go? 

GASKELL — I'll  have  to  stand  it.  (Frank  moves 
above  the  fire-place  still  watching  them  intently.) 

KIDDIE — (Standing  upon  arm  of  couch.)  I'm  as 
tall  as  you  are. 

GASKELL — (Turning  his  back.)     Come  on. 

KIDDIE — (Climbing  on  Gaskell 's  back.)  Get  up! 
Look,  Frankie!  (Kiddie  laughs  as  Gaskell  carries 
him  across  to  the  door  L.  and  puts  him  down.) 

GASKELL — Good  night  old  man. 


98  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

KIDDIE — Good  night — Frankie  you  come  in  ten 
minutes.  (He  goes  in  closing  the  door.) 

GASKELL — He  get's  hold  of  you  when  you're 
alone  with  him,  doesn't  he?  When  he  says  he  likes 
you — it  sort  of  makes  a  fellow  throw  out  his  chest. 
What's  the  matter?  Why  do  you  look  at  me  like 
that? 

FRANK — Nothing.    Was  I  staring? 

GASKELL — Tired  ? 

FRANK — Perhaps  I  am  a  little. 

GASKELL — It's  been  rather  an  exciting  day. 
Your  hands  are  as  cold  as  ice.  Have  you  got  nerves  ? 

FRANK — No — no — I  haven't. 

GASKELL — You  know — the  more  I  think  about 
what  you've  done  for  Kiddie, — the  more  I  like  you 
for  it. 

FRANK — Do  you? 

GASKELL — (Holding  her  by  the  arms.)  Yes,  I 
do.  It  begins  to  sink  into  me  what  the  boy  means 
to  you — and  that  you  actually  believe  all  your  ideas. 
I  begin  to  see  how  through  your  love  for  the  boy — 
and  his  mother's  tragedy — you're  sort  of  taken  up 
a  fight  for  all  women. 

FRANK — Yes,  yes, — that's  it. 

GASKELL — I  never  thought  before  that  you  act 
ually  believed  that  things  ought  to  be — the  same — 
for  men  and  women. 

FRANK — No, — I  know  you  didn't. 


ACT  III  99 

GASKELL — But  I  sec  that  you  believe  it  so  deeply 
that  you  think  it's  a  thing  to  go  by — live  by. 

FRANK — Of  course. 

GASKELL — You  couldn't  get  far  by  it. 

FRANK — Not  far.  No.  You  wouldn't  have 
asked  me  to  marry  you — if  Kiddie  had  been  my  own 
child. 

GASKELL — Oh,  I  don't — I — I  love  you.  I  want 
you.  But  when  I  knew  he  was  not — the  greatest 
change  came  that  can  come  to  a  man.  A  radiance 
went  over  you.  I  wanted  to  kneel  at  your  feet  and 
worship  you.  That's  the  way  all  men  feel  towards 
good  women  and  you  can't  change  it.  No  woman 
with  that  in  her  life  could  be  the  same  to  any  man 
— no  matter  how  he  loved  her — or  what  he  said  or 
swore.  It's  different.  It's  different.  A  man  wants 
the  -mother  of  his  children  to  be  the  purest  in  the 
world. 

FRANK — Yes,  and  a  man  expects  the  purest  wo 
man  in  thfc  world  to  forgive  him  anything — every 
thing.  It's  wrong.  It's  hideously  wrong. 

GASKELL — It's  life.  Listen  to  me, — sweetheart. 
I  want  to  help  you  do  the  sensible  thing — about 
Kiddie. 

FRANK — What  do  you  mean  ? 

GASKELL — Don't  you  see  that  you  must  let  it  be 
known  positively  who  his  mother  was? 

FRANK — That's  just  what  I  will  not  do. 


ioo  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

GASKELL — Wait.  You've  hurt  yourself  by  keep 
ing  still  about  him.  What  good  can  you  do  him  by 
that?  You  can't  take  away  the  curse  that  will  fol 
low  him.  He'll  have  to  fight  that  himself.  Don't 
you  see  it  would  be  much  better  to  tell  the  whole 
business  while  he's  little — too  little  to  know  any 
thing  about  it — and  then  send  him  away — put  him 
in  some  good  school? 

FRANK — Give  him  up,  you  mean? 

GASKELL — No,  not  at  all.  I  don't  ask  you  to  do 
that.  Watch  over  him  of  course  and  be  a  sort  of 
guardian — but — clear  this  thing  about  yourself. 
What's  the  matter? 

FRANK — No,  turn  your  head  that  way — side 
ways. 

GASKELL — What  are  you  looking  at?  What  do 
you  see?  Gray  hairs?  The  whole  point,  dear  girl, 
is — that  you  can't  to  save  your  life — make  things 
right  for  the  boy. 

FRANK — You  mean  I  can't  take  away  the  shame 
that  his  father  put  upon  him? 

GASKELL — Ye-s. 

FRANK — What  would  you  think — of  Kiddie's 
father — if  you  ever  saw  him  ? 

GASKELL — Oh, — let's  not  go  into  that  again.  No 
body  knows  the  circumstances.  You  can't  judge. 
Think  about  what  I've  said.  We  won't  say  any 
thing  more  about  it  now,  (He  goes  to  her  and 


ACT  III  ioi 

turns  her  toward  him.)     Do  you  love  me? 

FRANK — I  shall  never — never  give  Kiddie  up. 

GASKELL — I  wish  you'd  tell  me  what  you  are 
looking  at.  You  look  as  though  you  saw —  Frank! 
— what's  the  matter  with  you? 

FRANK — Nothing,    Stand  over  there. 

GASKELL — This  is  very  funny. 

FRANK — Oh,  don't.  (Quickly  putting  her  hand 
over  her  eyes.) 

GASKELL — (Going  to  her.)  Frank — are  you  ill? 
For  heaven's  sake  tell  me  what — 

FRANK — I've  got  a  blinding  headache — I  can't 
see  anything. 

GASKELL — Do  you  want  me  to  go?  (She  nods 
her  head  slowly — staring  at  him.)  I'm  awfully 
sorry.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  and  I 
wouldn't  have — Frank — there's  something  the  mat 
ter.  You've  got  to  tell  me.  What  do  you  think 
you  see?  (Taking  hold  of  her.) 

FRANK — Please  go. 

GASKELL — Are  you  angry?  Look  at  me.  Tell 
me  what  it  is. 

FRANK — Please — Just  go — I  want  to  think.  Go 
now — please — pi-ease.  I  can't  see.  (Hurt  and  a 
little  angry  he  moves  backwards  toward  door.)  Oh 
— it  can't  be — it  isn't — it  can't  be!  It  can't  be!  It 
isn't!  It  isn't! 

GASKELL — What  ? 


102  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRANK — Did  you  ever  know  a  girl  named — Alice 
Ellery? 

GASKELL — (After  a  pause.)  Who  told  you 
that? 

FRANK — Oh,  you  did. 

GASKELL — Who  told  you?    Who  told  you? 

FRANK — No  one. 

GASKELL — Was  it  anybody  here — in  this  house? 

FRANK — How  did  you — know  her?  I  mean — 
oh — tell  me! 

GASKELL — Do  you  know  the  whole  business? 

FRANK — I  don't  know  anything. 

GASKELL — You  do — you  do. 

FRANK — No.  I  don't.  I — I'm  not  prying  into 
your  life.  It  isn't  that.  But  you  must  tell  me 
something.  I've  got  to  know.  I've  got  to  know. 
(She  drags  herself  to  the  couch,  Gaskell  goes  to 
the  fire  and  after  a  long  pause  speaks  in  a  low  hard 
tone.) 

GASKELL — It  happened  about  six  years  ago.  I 
never  said  anything  about  marrying  her.  She  knew 
what  she  was  doing. 

FRANK — But,  did  you — did  you  desert  her? 

GASKELL — I  didn't!  She  went  away. 

FRANK — And  you  never  heard  from  her? 

GASKELL — Never. 

FRANK — Never  knew  what  happened  to  her? 

GASKELL — No.   She  left  a  note  saying  she  knew 


ACT  III  103 

then  she'd  been  a  fool — and  that  she  couldn't  face 
the  rest.  I'm  not  proud  of  it,  you  know.  I'd  give  a 
good  deal  to  wipe  it  out — but — it  happened.  Are 
you  going  to  hold  it  up  against  me?  Is  that  one  of 
your  theories?  Who  told  you? 

FRANK — No  one.  I  knew  her.  I  was  in  Paris 
then.  She  came  to  me. 

GASKELL — And  she  told  you  who — ? 

FRANK — Oh,  not  that  it  was  you — no — no. 

GASKELL — How  did  you  know  then? 

FRANK — Her  child  was  born  in  my  house. 

GASKELL — What  ? 

FRANK — It  was  Kiddie! 

GASKELL — No ! 

FRANK — They've  seen  the  likeness — I've  just 
seen  it.  I  had  to  ask  you.  I  had  to  know. 

GASKELL— Kiddie! 

FRANK — Kiddie — Kiddie. 

GASKELL — Don't  take  it  like  that.  I  love  you 
better  than  my  life.  (Trying  to  take  hold  of  her.) 

FRANK — Oh,  don't. 

GASKELL — Look  here,  Frank,  we  love  each  oth 
er,  and  we've  got  to  face  it. 

FRANK — Yes,  we've  got  to  face  it. 

GASKELL — Nothing — nothing  can  separate  us. 

FRANK — We  are  separated. 

GASKELL — Only  by  your  ideas. 

FRANK — My   ideas!    They're   horrible   realities 


104  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

now  because  it's  you. 

GASKELL — Frank — 

FRANK— Every  time  I've  looked  at  Kiddie  I've 
cursed  the  man  who  ruined  his  mother  and  branded 
him  with  disgrace. 

GASKELL — Frank,  stop! 

FRANK — I've  loathed  and  despised  that  man,  I 
tell  you — and  it's  you.  Before  it  was  someone  else — 
any  one — some  one  unknown,  but  now  it's  you — 
you — you.  (She  stops.  They  both  turn  with  hor 
ror,  as  Kiddie,  in  his  night  clothes,  stands  watching 
them,  a  little  wondering  figure.) 

The  Curtain  Falls 


ACT  IV 

Time — (Immediately  following  Act  III.) 

Place— (Same  as  Act  III.) 

At  curtain — (Frank  and  Gaskell  are  standing  as 
at  end  of  Act  III.) 

KIDDIE — Why  don't  you  come,  Frankie? 

FRANK — (Moving  slowly.)  Come,  Kiddie. 
(Kiddie  hangs  his  head,  then  looks  up  at  Gaskell 
slowly.)  Kiddie.  (Kiddie  pushes  past  her  and 
goes  to  Gaskell — Frank  goes  in  to  her  room.) 

KIDDIE — Don't  you  like  me  any  more? 
(Gaskell  doesn't  answer.)  Do  you  want  me 
to  give  the  knife  back?  (Moving  closer  to 
Gaskell.)  It's  the  best  knife  I  ever  had.  I  found 
another  blade — look.  (Taking  knife  out  of  pocket 
and  leaning  against  Gaskell  to  show  it.)  You  open 
it.  Don't  you  want  to?  (Kiddie  looks  steadily  at 
Gaskell  and  then  puts  his  hands  on  Gaskell' s  chest.) 
Are  you  mad  at  me?  Don't  you  like  me  any  more? 
(Kiddie  throws  his  arms  about  Gaskell' s  neck.  Gas 
kell  holds  him  tensely  a  moment.) 

FRANK — (Calling  from  her  room.)  Come,  Kid 
die. 

KIDDIE — I've  got  to  go  now,  but  I'll  see  you  to 
morrow.  (He  goes  in.  There  is  a  knock  at  hall 
105 


106  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

door.  After  a  moment  Gaskell  opens  it.  Fritz 
stands  in  door  way.) 

FRITZ — I  came  to  find  you.  I  went  to  your 
room.  Are  you  going  back  now? 

GASKELL — No,  I'm  going  out. 

FRITZ — I  have  something  to  say  to  you. 

GASKELL — Well,  say  it. 

FRITZ — Not  here. 

GASKELL — Go  on.  Miss  Ware  is  putting  Kid 
die  to  bed. 

FRITZ — I  would  rather  you — 

GASKELL — Say  what  you've  got  to  say  now.  I'm 
in  a  hurry. 

FRITZ — I — der  has  been — you  know — der  has 
been  some — some  talk  about — about  Kiddie. 

GASKELL — Confounded  impertinent  set  here. 

FRITZ — Miss  Ware  is  in  a  wrong  position  and 
some  one  has  got  to  make  it  right  for  her. 

GASKELL — Look  here.  You're  meddling  with 
something  that  doesn't  concern  you. 

FRITZ — No,  I'm  not  meddling.  Some  one  has 
got  to  do  dis  for  her. 

GASKELL — You  needn't  trouble  yourself.  You 
can  tell  the  rest  of  your  curious  friends  that  I 
know  who  this  boy  is. 

FRITZ — You  know? 

GASKELL — And  I've  asked  Miss  Ware  to  marry 
me.  That  clears  the  whole  business. 


ACT  IV  107 

FRITZ — No,  it  doesn't. 

GASKELL — What  are  you  trying  to  do?  I  know 
all  about  him,  I  tell  you,  and  if  there's  any  more 
of  this  damnable  talk  they'll  answer  to  me. 

FRITZ — You  know  who  the  mother  was? 

GASKELL — I  not  only  knew  who  she  was — I 
knew  her.  That's  enough. 

FRITZ — You  knew  the  f adder  also? 

GASKELL — That  has  nothing  to  do  with  Miss 
Ware. 

FRITZ — Yes,  it  has.  Der  has  been  a  horrible 
thing  said  here  in  dis  house.  Dey  say  he  is  her 
child — and  yours. 

GASKELL — It's  a  lie! 

FRITZ — Part  of  it  is  a  lie — but  he  is  yours. 

GASKELL — Why  damn  you — what — 

FRITZ — Listen  to  me.  I  haf  seen  dis  strange  and 
strong  resemblance.  I  haf  watch  him — I  haf 
watch  you — till  I  haf  come  to  tink  you  are  his  fadder. 
(A  pause — Gaskell  looks  at  Fritz  then  moves  away.) 
For  de  love  of  God  if  it  is  true  don't  marry  dis 
woman  without  telling  her — it  will  kill  her  if  she 
ever  find  it  out. 

GASKELL — Now  see  here,  Bahn,  Miss  Ware  does 
know  who  Kiddie's  father  is. 

FRITZ — No  she  does  not  know. 

GASKELL — Yes  she  does  and  she  is  going  to  mar 
ry  me.  That  clears  the  whole  thing. 


io8  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

FRITZ — No,  it  does  not  clear  her  name,  it  will 
only  make  dem  sure  of  what  dey  tink  now — that  he 
is  her  child  and  yours. 

GASKELL — It's  a  hellish,  infernal  lie — and  I'll — 

LlONE — (Rapping  loudly  and  opening  the  hall 
door  quickly.)  What  are  you  doing?  You're  shout 
ing  so  the  whole  house  can  hear  you.  (Wells  ap 
pears  in  door  behind  her.) 

GASKELL — Come  in  here.  Shut  the  door. 
(Lione  enters,  Wells  follows,  closing  the  door.)  So 
this  is  what  you've  been  saying  about  her?  You've 
been  lying  about  a  good  woman. 

LIONE — What  have  you  told  him,  Fritz? 

GASKELL — The  whole  business  and  I'll  tell  you 
who  the  boy  is.  I  knew — the — mother.  Maybe 
you'll  believe  that  when  I  tell  you — the  boy  is  mine. 
(There  is  a  pause.  They  all  watch  Gaskell  as  he 
goes  to  stand  before  fire — his  back  to  them.)  I 
only  found  this  out  a  little  while  ago, — from  some 
thing  Miss  Ware  told  me  about — his  mother  who 
died  in  her  house.  I  hope  this  knocks  the  truth  into 
you. 

LIONE — For  my  part  I'm  pretty  much  ashamed 
of  what  I've  had  to  do  in  this. 

GASKELL — It's  happened.    That's  the  end  of  it. 

WELLS — I  consider  what  has  just  been  said  a 
sacred  confidence.  I  take  my  oath  it  will  be  so 
with  me. 


ACT  IV  109 

(Lione  and  Fritz  and  Wells  look  at  each  other 
and  slightly  bow  their  heads  in  acknowledgment  of 
a  pledge.) 

GASKELL — Whether  Miss  Ware  will  marry  me 
now,  I  don't  know.  That's  all  I  have  to  say. 
(Wells  opens  the  door  for  Lione  and  follows  her 
out.  Fritz  hesitates,  takes  a  short  step  toward  Gas- 
kell,  turns  and  goes  out — closing  the  door.  Gaskell 
remains  looking  into  the  fire  as  Frank  comes  back.) 
Frank,  this  thing  isn't  going  to  make  any  difference 
in  our  lives,  is  it? 

FRANK — (Closing  the  door  after  her  quietly.) 
Whatever  I  do,  Malcolm,  you'll  know  I  do  without 
bitterness — without  any  spirit  of  revenge. 

GASKELL — You  mean  if  you  throw  me  over? 

FRANK — I  mean  if  the  future  doesn't  seem  possi 
ble  for  us  together. 

GASKELL — Why  shouldn't  it  be  possible? 

FRANK — You  know. 

GASKELL — No,  I  don't.  This  thing  has  been  a 
shock  to  you — of  course.  It's  shaken  you  terribly, 
but  you  haven't  given  me  any  real  reason — any 
facts  why  there  shouldn't  be  a  future  for  us.  I 
love  you  and  I  am  going  to  have  you. 

FRANK — (Moving  away  fro?n  him.)  Oh,  don't 
please.  I  must — I  must — 

GASKELL — (Following  her.)  There's  little 
enough  in  the  world  worth  having,  heaven  knows. 


ii6  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

Why  should  we  miss  each  other? 

FRANK — Kiddie — Kiddie. 

GASKELL — Well — well — we  love  each  other. 
That's  the  first  thing  to  reckon  with. 

FRANK — Oh,  you  don't  know  yet  what  I  mean. 

GASKELL — Talk  won't  get  us  anywhere.  We've 
got  to  look  this  thing  square  in  the  face,  as  it  is. 
Either  you  throw  me  over,  or  you  let  me  give  you 
the  rest  of  my  life  and  make  you  happy. 

FRANK — Oh,  that  isn't — 

GASKELL — I  love  you,  Frank.  I'd  lay  down  my 
life  for  you.  You're  the  whole  world  to  me. 

FRANK — Love  isn't  the  only  thing  in  the  world. 

GASKELL — It's  the  biggest  thing.  We've  found 
each  other.  Look  at  me.  You  know  it's  the  one 
perfect  thing  on  earth — a  perfect  love  and  we've 
found  it. 

FRANK — It  never  could  be  perfect  while  you  be 
lieve  what  you  do. 

GASKELL — What's  that  got  to  do  with  the  facts? 

FRANK — Do  you  believe  it  wasn't  wrong — just 
because  you  are  a  man? 

GASKELL — Oh — 

FRANK— Do  you  believe  that? 

GASKELL — (After  a  pause.)    Yes. 

FRANK— Oh! 

GASKELL — Good  heavens,  Frank,  I  tho't  you 
were  so  much  bigger  than  the  average  woman.  All 


ACT  IV  in 

women  kick  against  this  and  what  good  does  it  do? 
Why  since  the  beginning  of  time  one  thing  has  been 
accepted  for  a  man  and  another  for  a  woman.  Why 
on  earth  do  you  beat  your  head  against  a  stone  wall  ? 
Why  do  you  try  to  put  your  ideals  up  .against  the 
facts? 

FRANK — I'm  not  talking  about  my  ideals  now, 
nor  the  accepted  thing.  I'm  talking  about  you, 
that  girl,  this  child.  You  think  I  must  excuse  what 
you  did — that  it  really  wasn't  wrong  at  all,  just  be 
cause  you  are  a  man. 

GASKELL — It's  too  late  to  say  these  things 
to  me  now.  You  know — must  have  known  when 
you  first  knew  me  that  I'd — well  that  I'd  lived  a 
man's  life.  When  you  first  loved  me  why  didn't 
you  think  of  all  this? 

FRANK — Ah,  that's  just  it — I  loved  you.  I  took 
you  as  all  women  take  men — without  question.  Oh, 
don't  you  see  I'm  not  looking  for  something  bad  in 
men.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him — if  he  hadn't  been 
put  into  my  arms  a  little  helpless,  nameless  thing — 
if  I  hadn't  seen  that  girl  suffer  the  tortures  of  hell 
through  her  disgrace,  I  probably  wouldn't  have 
thought  any  more  about  this  than  most  women  do. 

GASKELL — Isn't  our  love  more  to  you  than  that? 

FRANK— No! 

GASKELL — Good  God,  Frank!  You're  a  woman. 
You  talk  like  a  woman — you  think  like  a  woman. 


ii2  A  MAN'S  WORLD 

I'm  a  man.  What  do  you  expect?  We  don't  live 
under  the  same  laws.  It  was  never  meant  to  be. 
Nature,  nature  made  men  different. 

FRANK — Don't  make  nature  the  excuse  for  ruin 
ing  the  life  of  a  good  girl.  Oh,  Malcolm —  (Put 
ting  her  hand  on  his  arm.)  Do  you  think  it  wasn't 
wrong  ? 

GASKELL — (Drawing  her  to  him.)  I  only  know 
I  love  you.  You  said  you  loved  me.  I  won't  give 
you  up. 

FRANK— Oh! 

GASKELL — You're  angry  now.  When  you've 
had  time  to  think  you'll  see.  Frank,  I  love  you. 
I  love  you. 

FRANK — (Getting  away  from  him.)  Oh,  no, 
no. 

GASKELL — Frank,  you're  not  as  cold  and  hard  as 
that.  You're  going  to  forgive  me. 

FRANK — Oh,  I  want  to  forgive  you.  If  you 
could  only  see.  If  your  soul  could  only  see.  Oh, 
dear  God!  Malcolm,  tell  me,  tell  me  you  know  it 
was  wrong — that  you'd  give  your  life  to  make  it 
right.  Say  that  you  know  this  thing  was  a  crime. 

GASKELL — No!  Don't  try  to  hold  me  to  account 
by  a  standard  that  doesn't  exist.  Don't  measure 
me  by  your  theories.  If  you  love  me  you'll  stand 
on  that  and  forget  everything  else. 

FRANK — I  can't.    I  can't. 


ACT  IV  113 

GASKELL — I'm  not  a  man  to  beg,  Frank.  Do 
you  want  me  to  go?  Is  that  it?  Is  this  the  end? 

FRANK — There's  nothing  else. 

GASKELL — Do  you  mean  that? 

FRANK — There's  nothing  else.  It  is  the  end. 
(He  goes  out  closing  the  door.) 

The  curtain  falls 


AMERICAN  DRAMATISTS  SERIES 


A  series  of  plays  by  contemporary  American  dramatists; 
uniformly  bound  in  antique  boards,  each,  $1.00  net. 

THE   FLOWER   SHOP.  By   Marion   Craig-Wentwortlt 

Play  in  three  acts,  dealing  with  woman's  suffrage. 

THE  MAN   YOU   LOVE.  By   Robert  A.   Kasper 

A  drama  of  to-day  in  four  acts. 

PUPPETS  OF  FATE.  By  Alice  Elizabeth  Larelle 

An  historical  drama  of  the  time  of  Napoleon,  in  four  acts 
and  a  prologue. 

THIRST.  By  Eugene  G.  O'Neill 

Five  one-act  plays:  Thirst,  The  Webb,  Warnings,  Fog, 
Recklessness. 

THE  GIRL  IN  THE  PICTURE.         By  Alexander  W.  Shaw 
A  farce  in  two  acts. 

SOME  PEOPLE  MARRY.  By   Robert  A.  Rasper 

A  drama  of  to-day  in  three  acts. 

A   MAN'S    WORLD.  By    Rachel   Crothers 

Miss  Crothers'  famous  play  of  to-day,  in  three  acts. 

A  LIGHT  FROM  ANOTHER  WORLD.    By  C.  H.  McGurrU 

A  dramatic  sketch  of  to-day,  in  one  act. 

THE  LITTLE   MOTHER  OF   THE   SLUMS. 

By   Emily    Herey    Denison 

Seven  One-act  Plays:  The  Little  Mother  of  the  Slums; 
Duped;  The  Yeggman;  The  Mystery  of  Beacon  Hill;  My 
Friends'  in  Town;  The  Dawn  of  Music;  Dolly  Madison's 
Afternoon  Tea. 

THE   JUDGE.  By  Louis   J.  Bloch 

A  play  in  f 
Von  Franzos. 


A  play  in  four  acts,  founded  on  the  novel  of  Karl  Bmil 
Fi 


EVERYCHILD.  By  Beatrix   Reynolds 

A  fanciful  story  in  dramatic  form,  which  will  help  chil 
dren  to  understand  music. 


RICHARD   G.   BADGER,   PUBLISHER,   BOSTON 


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